It was the Bondi golfing man <br />Drove off from the golf house tee, <br />And he had taken his little daughter <br />To bear him company. <br />"Oh, Father, why do you swing the club <br />And flourish it such a lot?" <br />"You watch it fly o'er the fences high!" <br />And he tried with a brassey shot. <br /> <br />"Oh, Father, why did you hit the fence <br />Just there where the brambles twine?" <br />And the father he answered never a word, <br />But he got on the green in nine. <br /> <br />"Oh, Father, hark from behind those trees, <br />What dismal yells arrive!" <br />"'Tis a man I ween on the second green, <br />And I've landed him with my drive." <br /> <br />"Oh, Father, why does the poor Chinee <br />Fall down on his knees and cry?" <br />"He taketh me for his Excellency, <br />And he thinks once hit twice shy." <br /> <br />So on they fared to the waterhole, <br />And he drove with a lot of dash, <br />But his balls full soon in the dread lagoon <br />Fell down with a woeful splash. <br /> <br />"Oh, Father, why do you beat the sand <br />Till it flies like the carded wool?" <br />And the father he answered never a word, <br />For his heart was much too full. <br /> <br />"Oh, Father, why are they shouting 'fore' <br />And screaming so lustily?" <br />But the father he answered never a word, <br />A pallid corpse was he. <br /> <br />For a well-swung drive on the back of his head <br />Had landed and laid him low. <br />Lord save us all from a fate like this <br />When next to the links we go.<br /><br />Andrew Barton Paterson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-wreck-of-the-golfer/
