I smoke in chains, to make my head go a-spin,
I quench my thirst on a tonic and gin.
Yet I don’t get numb; no spell to break the curse
So I sit at my table and write some free verse.
Alas hades, even that won't cheer my broken-heart blues.
However do I get rid of this jinx?
Thus I grab my clubs, and put on my plus-fours,
And trod off for a game on the links.
I hold the wood, my "ee on the ba'"2
And "drive 'em straight", not short nor far;
Missing the bunker and over the lake,
A perfect swing, that’s hard to make.
The brassie-shot, I "dinna press"3,
Right on the green, so far.
I take my putter; hole out in two,
Doing it all one under par!
Oh the joy, in this noblest game!
Puts all the wounds and sorrows to shame.
So, I tee the ball and take an aim,
Keep my "heid still"4; do it all again.
I beat the pro. with a sixty-five,
In amazement he says, "Gosh!"
A woman, you know, is only a woman,
But a hefty drive is a slosh.
1. Chester Forgets Himself (title of a short story)
2. Eye on the ball
3. Do not press
4. Head still
This one is essentially a product of two Wodehouse quotes.
1. Love has had a lot of press-agenting from the oldest times; but there are higher, nobler things than love. A woman is only a woman, but a hefty drive is a slosh. (A Woman Is Only A Woman from The Clicking Of Cuthbert)
2. In similar circumstances (heart-breaks) those who have not had a sound training in golf are too apt to go wrong. Goaded by the sudden anguish, they take to drink, plunge into dissipation, and write vers libre. (Chester Forgets Himself from The Heart of a Goof)
Most other quotes and ideas are also from Wodehouse – except the heart-break, of course.