Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 152, April 18, 1917 by Various
page 7 of 53 (13%)
page 7 of 53 (13%)
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And, though I moved by strange and devious ways,
To keep in view the goal, or _finis ludi_, And ever let my language be The language of diplomacy. Thus BALFOUR learned the politician's game, And thus LLOYD GEORGE was trained to be a Premier; Thence many a leader who has leapt to fame Got self-control, grew harder, tougher, phlegmier, Reared in the virtues which prevail At Walton Heath and Sunningdale. Golf being then the source of so much good, I own my conscience suffers certain wrenches Recalling how the links of Chorley Wood Have seen me on the Sabbath carving trenches, Where Tommies might be taught to pitch The deadly bomb from ditch to ditch. For I reflect that my intruding spade, That blocked the foursome and debarred the single, May well have cheeked some statesman yet unmade, Some budding HOGGE, some mute inglorious PRINGLE; And that is why my shovel shrinks From excavating other links. O.S. * * * * * |
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