To The Terrestrial Globe. By A Miserable Wretch

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Title:     To The Terrestrial Globe. By A Miserable Wretch
Author: W. S. Gilbert [More Titles by Gilbert]

Roll on, thou ball, roll on!
Through pathless realms of Space
Roll on!
What though I'm in a sorry case?
What though I cannot meet my bills?
What though I suffer toothache's ills?
What though I swallow countless pills?
Never YOU mind!
Roll on!

Roll on, thou ball, roll on!
Through seas of inky air
Roll on!
It's true I've got no shirts to wear;
It's true my butcher's bill is due;
It's true my prospects all look blue--
But don't let that unsettle you!
Never YOU mind!
Roll on!

[It rolls on.

[The end]
W. S. Gilbert's poem: To The Terrestrial Globe. By A Miserable Wretch

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