William Schwenck Gilbert

(1836 - 1911 / London / England)

To The Terrestrial Globe - Poem by William Schwenck 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.]


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Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004



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