(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 Im in a sorry case?
What though I cannot meet my bills?
What though I suffer toothaches 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!
Its true Ive got no shirts to wear;
Its true my butchers bill is due;
Its true my prospects all look blue
But dont let that unsettle you!
      Never you mind!
         Roll on!






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