Enid’s Song

by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

From “Idyls of the King”   TURN, Fortune, turn thy wheel and lower the proud; Turn thy wild wheel through sunshine, storm, and cloud; Thy wheel and thee we neither love nor hate.   Turn, Fortune, turn thy wheel with smile or frown; With that wild wheel we go not up or down; Our hoard is little, but our hearts are great.   Smile and we smile, the lords of many lands; Frown and we smile, the lords of our own hands; For man is man and master of his fate.   Turn, turn thy wheel above the staring crowd; Thy wheel and thou are shadows in the cloud; Thy wheel and thee we neither love nor hate.

More poems by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

All poems by Alfred, Lord Tennyson →