Turn, Fortune, turn thy wheel, and lower the proud;
Turn thy wild wheel thro’ 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 Baron Alfred, Lord Tennyson
![Alfred 1st Baron Tennyson](https://www.poetry.monster/wp-content/uploads/2021/07/800px-Alfred_Tennyson_1st_Baron_Tennyson_by_George_Frederic_Watts-150x150.jpg)