David Cleek

Original Text: 
Siegfried Sassoon, The Old Huntsman and other Poems (1917: New York: E.P. Dutton, 1918): 60. Internet Archive
1I cannot think that Death will press his claim
2To snuff you out or put you off your game:
3You'll still contrive to play your steady round,
4Though hurricanes may sweep the dismal ground,
5And darkness blur the sandy-skirted green
6Where silence gulfs the shot you strike so clean.
9Good-fortune speed your ball upon its way
11Till crowds of Angels chant for evermore
12The miracle of your unbeaten score;
13And He who keeps all players in His sight,
14Walking the royal and ancient hills of light,
15Standing benignant at the eighteenth hole.
16To everlasting Golf consigns your soul.

Notes

7] Saint Andrew: the ancient city in Scotland that is the home of golf. Cleek: named after an old long iron in golf. Back to Line
8] Fifeshire: the county of St Andrew. Back to Line
10] Medal-Day: the day of a golf tournament in which the victor scores the lowest number of strokes. Back to Line
RPO poem Editors: 
Ian Lancashire
RPO Edition: 
2011
Form: 
Special Copyright: 

Out of copyright in the United States only.