A Favorite of Fortune: Golf Poetry

A Favorite of Fortune: Golf Poetry


HIS eye Is never on the ball, his driving it is weak, 
While his system of approaching is to top it with 
his cleek; 

He never plays a decent iron nor hits a brassey clean, 
But oh! to see him luck a putt from clear across the 

- H. Van Tassel Sutphen, Lyrics of the Links (1921) 

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