Would ye know where freedom dwells

Would ye know where freedom dwells,
Where jovial hearts carouse and sing,
Haunt these grots, explore these cells,
Here every subject is a king!

Sprightly mirth inhabits here,
And joy that knows no listless pause;
For how should we dull sorrow fear
Who square our lives by pleasure's laws?

What's fortune!—is it chance or worth?
Peasant and prince their race must run—
Nor is there that poor spot on earth
But's cherished by the genial sun.