The dewdrops sparkled on the lea,
The sun shone through the fog bank’s chinks.
My partner, hopeful, said to me
“He’ll lose, and let us through methinks!”
When Potter played in front of me
The other day upon the links.
The noonday sun looks down in glee
While Potter in the bunker swinks,
He plies the niblick merrily
While Caddie unto Caddie winks.