One Down and One Up – Golf Poetry

ONE DOWN AND ONE UP 
THE golden gorse ablaze. 
Turns into purple haze. 
Where in the distance fades the sunset glow; 
The note of birds is gay, 
Piping their cheerful lay,
The murmur of the sea is faint and low;
And slender spires are seen 
Peeping above the green; 
White clouds o'erhead sail lazily and slow; 
Yet there is one who sees 
No beauty in the trees ; 
One who is blind to country and to town ; 
For at the eighteenth hole, 
This thing doth vex his soul — 
His adversary holds him by "one down." 
The day is cold and drear, 
The autumn leaves are sere, 
A chill and searching wind blows o'er the lea ; 
No song of birds is heard, 
Or plowboy's cheering word ; 
From far off sounds the thunder of the sea ; 
The chill mist dropping down. 
Hides all the distant town. 
The cold rain drips from every bush and tree; 
And yet one heart is light. 
Heedless of coming night ; 
Of happiness alone one drinks the cup ; 
For at the eighteenth hole. 
This cheers the golfer's soul — 
He leads his adversary by "one up.*' 
George H. Sargent, in Lyrics of the Links, published in 1921