Reward of Merit – Golf Poetry

REWARD OF MERIT 
I HATED the man who conceived it, 
While claiming that golf was "immense," 
For she, as a golfer, believed it 
Must please every person of sense. 
Golf ! golf ! and more golf ! was her passion; 
From morning to sunset we played. 
With her it was sport — and the fashion; 
With me it was winning the maid. 
I dressed by the canons, revealing 
My unperpendicular pegs 
To persons without any feeling, 
Who made rude remarks about legs. 
I foozled and putted, and carried 
Her clubs when the caddies ran off; 
Thinks I, "Aha, miss, when we're married 
You'll learn my opinion of golf!" 
I played with her straight through the season, 
Till cityward wended the throng. 
And then I developed my reason 
For dancing attendance so long. 
And then, "Oh, I thought you a golfer!" 
My suit she dismissed with that snub, 
And married a gallery scoffer 
Who never had wielded a club. 
Frank Roe Batchelder, in Lyrics of the Links, published in 1921.