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!

(It rolls on.)

William Schwenck Gilbert

William Schwenck Gilbert was an English dramatist, librettist, poet, and illustrator best known for his collaboration with composer Arthur Sullivan, which produced fourteen comic operas, including 'H.M.S. Pinafore', 'The Pirates of Penzance', and 'The Mikado'. His works are known for their light-hearted satirical humor and have remained popular for their wit and creativity. Gilbert was also a barrister and produced several serious plays.

William Schwenck Gilbert

The Fickle Breeze

William Schwenck Gilbert, Simple Poetry

Only Roses!

William Schwenck Gilbert, Simple Poetry

The Periwinkle Girl

William Schwenck Gilbert, Simple Poetry

The Susceptible Chancellor

William Schwenck Gilbert, Simple Poetry

English

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Tempora Mutantur

Letters, letters, letters, letters!
Some that please and some that bore,
Some that threaten prison fetters
(Metaphorically, fetters
Such as bind insolvent debtors)
Invitations by the score.

One from COGSON, WILES, and RAILER,
My attorneys, off the Strand;
One from COPPERBLOCK, my tailor
My unreasonable tailor
One in FLAGG'S disgusting hand.

One from EPHRAIM and MOSES,
Wanting coin without a doubt,
I should like to pull their noses
Their uncompromising noses;
One from ALICE with the roses
Ah, I know what that's about !

Time was when I waited, waited
For the missives that she wrote,
Humble postmen execrated
Loudly, deeply execrated
When I heard I wasn't fated
To be gladdened with a note!

Time was when I'...

William Schwenck Gilbert

The Baffled Grumbler.

Whene'er I poke
Sarcastic joke
Replete with malice spiteful,
The people vile
Politely smile
And vote me quite delightful!
Now, when a wight
Sits up all night
Ill-natured jokes devising,
And all his wiles
Are met with smiles,
It's hard, there's no disguising!
Oh, don't the days seem lank and long
When all goes right and nothing goes wrong,
And isn't your life extremely flat
With nothing whatever to grumble at!

When German bands
From music stands
Play Wagner imperfectly
I bid them go
They don't say no,
But off they trot directly!
The organ boys
They stop their noise
With readiness surprising,
And grinning herds
Of hurdy-gurds
Retire apologizing!
Oh, don't the days seem lank and long
Wh...

William Schwenck Gilbert

A Nightmare

When you're lying awake with a dismal headache, and repose is taboo'd by anxiety,
I conceive you may use any language you choose to indulge in without impropriety;
For your brain is on fire - the bedclothes conspire of usual slumber to plunder you:
First your counterpane goes and uncovers your toes, and your sheet slips demurely from under you;
Then the blanketing tickles - you feel like mixed pickles, so terribly sharp is the pricking,
And you're hot, and you're cross, and you tumble and toss till there's nothing 'twixt you and the ticking.
Then the bedclothes all creep to the ground in a heap, and you pick 'em all up in a tangle;
Next your pillow resigns and politely declines to remain at its usual angle!
Well, you get some repose in the form of a doze, with hot eyeballs and head ever aching,

William Schwenck Gilbert

Sing For The Garish Eye

Sing for the garish eye,
    When moonless brandlings cling!
Let the froddering crooner cry,
    And the braddled sapster sing.
For never, and never again,
    Will the tottering beechlings play,
For bratticed wrackers are singing aloud,
    And the throngers croon in May!

The wracking globe unstrung,
    Unstrung in the frittering light
Of a moon that knows no day,
    Of a day that knows no night!
Diving away in the crowd
    Of sparkling frets in spray,
The bratticed wrackers are singing aloud,
    And the throngers croon in May!

Hasten, O hapful blue,
    Blue, of the shimmering brow,
Hasten the deed to do
    That shall roddle the welkin now!
For never again shall a cloud
    Out-thribble the babbling day,
When br...

William Schwenck Gilbert

The Sailor Boy To His Lass.

I go away this blessed day,
To sail across the sea, Matilda!
My vessel starts for various parts
At twenty after three, Matilda.
I hardly know where we may go,
Or if it's near or far, Matilda,
For Captain Hyde does not confide
In any 'fore-mast tar, Matilda!

Beneath my ban that mystic man
Shall suffer, coute qui coute, Matilda!
What right has he to keep from me
The Admiralty route, Matilda?
Because, forsooth! I am a youth
Of common sailors' lot, Matilda!
Am I a man on human plan
Designed, or am I not, Matilda?

But there, my lass, we'll let that pass!
With anxious love I burn, Matilda.
I want to know if we shall go
To church when I return, Matilda?
Your eyes are red, you bow your head;
It's pretty clear you thirst, Matilda,

William Schwenck Gilbert

Life

First you're born - and I'll be bound you
Find a dozen strangers round you.
"Hallo," cries the new-born baby,
"Where's my parents? which may they be?"
Awkward silence - no reply -
Puzzled baby wonders why!
Father rises, bows politely -
Mother smiles (but not too brightly) -
Doctor mumbles like a dumb thing -
Nurse is busy mixing something. -
Every symptom tends to show
You're decidedly DE TROP -
Ho! ho! ho! ho! ho! he! ho! ho!
Time's teetotum,
If you spin it,
Give its quotum
Once a minute:
I'll go bail
You hit the nail,
And if you fail
The deuce is in it!

You grow up, and you discover
What it is to be a lover.
Some young lady is selected -
Poor, perhaps, but well-connected,
Whom you hail (for Love is blind

William Schwenck Gilbert