Little care we for this or for that;
Off with the bonnet, off with the hat:
Away we go, like birds on the wing!
Higher yet! higher yet! Now for the king!
This is the way we swing, we swing!
Scarcely the bough bends, Claude is so light;
Mount up behind him—there, that is right;
Down bends the branch, now swing him away.
Higher yet! higher yet! higher, I say!
Oh, what a joy it is! Now let us sing,