A golfer’s eulogy 0


When his game is up,
And prompts no more debate,
And life’s unerring drive,
Ascends the green of fate,

It will I’m sure be said,
By crowds that filled the gallery,
That upright was his stance,
Whilst stood upon the final tee,

And when the last put drops,
Stewards will murmur from afar,
In marking of his card,
He played his round in level par.

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