And though you may laugh on the mountain’s crown,
And though I may toil at the base,
It is neither he who is up nor down
Has himself to thank for his place;
But whether ’tis Fate, if you choose to say,
Or say, if you choose, ’tis chance—
No matter—the tune that their fingers play
Is exactly the step we dance.
Yet if all the tales that are told be wrong,
And though reason be topmost yet,