The Golfer's Rubaiyat

WAKE! for the sun has driven in equal flight The stars before him from the Tee of Night, And holed them every one without a Miss, Swinging at ease his gold-shod Shaft of Light.

WAKE, Loiterer! for already Dawn is seen With her red marker on the eastern Green, And summons all her Little Ones to change A joyous Three for every sad Thirteen.

AND as the Cock crew, those who stood before The first Tee murmur’d: “Just this chance to score, You know how little while we have to play, And, once departed, may return no more.”

NOW the fresh Year, reviving old Desires, The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires, Pores on this Club and That with anxious eye, And dreams of Rounds beyond the Rounds of Liars.