Poem by William Schwenck Gilbert

The Bab Ballads. To the Terrestrial Globe

BY A MISERABLE WRETCH

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!

1. The Bab Ballads. The Periwinkle Girl
2. The Bab Ballads. General John
3. The Bab Ballads. Haunted
4. The Bab Ballads. A Discontented Sugar Broker
5. The Bab Ballads. Disillusioned

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