The Poetry Corner

Politics

By Alfred Lord Tennyson

We move, the wheel must always move, Nor always on the plain, And if we move to such a goal As Wisdom hopes to gain, Then you that drive, and know your craft, Will firmly hold the rein, Nor lend an ear to random cries, Or you may drive in vain; For some cry Quick and some cry Slow, But, while the hills remain, Up hill Too-slow' will need the whip, Down hill Too-quick the chain.