Andrew Lang (1844-1912)
Off my Game
1'I'M off my game,' the golfer said,
2 And shook his locks in woe;
3'My putter never lays me dead,
4 My drives will never go;
5Howe'er I swing, howe'er I stand,
6 Results are still the same,
7I'm in the burn, I'm in the sand --
8 I'm off my game!
9'Oh, would that such mishaps might fall
10 On Laidlay or Macfie,
11That they might toe or heel the ball,
12 And sclaff along like me!
13Men hurry from me in the street,
14 And execrate my name,
15Old partners shun me when we meet --
16 I'm off my game!
17'Why is it that I play at all?
18 Let memory remind me
19How once I smote upon my ball,
20 And bunkered it -- behind me.
21I mostly slice into the whins,
22 And my excuse is lame --
23It cannot cover half my sins --
24 I'm off my game!
25I hate the sight of all my set,
26 I grow morose as Byron;
27I never loved a brassey yet,
28 And now I hate an iron.
29My cleek seems merely made to top,
30 My putting's wild or tame;
31It's really time for me to stop --
32 I'm off my game.'
Notes
7] burn: brook.
11] toe or heel: hit the ball with the outer or the inner of the club-head.
12] sclaff: hit behind the ball.
21] whins: gorse.
26] Lord Byron, the English poet.
27] brassey: brass-shod wooden club.
29] cleek: long iron, one with little loft and a long shaft.
Online text copyright © 2009, Ian Lancashire (the Department of English) and the University of Toronto.
Published by the Web Development Group, Information Technology Services, University of Toronto Libraries.
Original text: The Poetical Works of Andrew Lang, ed. Mrs. Lang, 4 vols. (London: Longmans, Green & Co., 1923): II, 75-76. British Library 011645.ee.47
RPO poem editor: Ian Lancashire
RP edition: RPO 2001
Recent editing: 2:2002/2/20
Rhyme: ababcdcd
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