The Golfer's Rubáiyát

H.S. Stone & Company, 1901 - 83 pàgines

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Pàgina xxiv - Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend, Before we too into the Dust descend ; Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie. Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and — sans End! Alike for those who for TO-DAY prepare, And those that after some TO-MORROW stare, A Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries, " Fools ! your Reward is neither Here nor There.
Pàgina xxviii - With them the seed of Wisdom did I sow, And with mine own hand wrought to make it grow ; And this was all the Harvest that I reap'd — " I came like Water, and like Wind I go.
Pàgina xxvi - Myself when young did eagerly frequent Doctor and Saint, and heard great argument About it and about : but evermore Came out by the same door where in I went.
Pàgina xlvii - Chequer-board of Nights and Days; Hither and thither moves, and checks, and slays, And one by one back in the Closet lays. LXX The Ball no question makes of Ayes and Noes, But Here or There as strikes the Player goes; And He that toss'd you down into the Field, He knows about it all - HE knows - HE knows!
Pàgina lvi - Shapes of all Sorts and Sizes, great and small, That stood along the floor and by the wall ; And some loquacious vessels were ; and some Listen'd perhaps, but never talk'd at all.
Pàgina lxxviii - Yon rising Moon that looks for us again — How oft hereafter will she wax and wane; How oft hereafter rising look for us Through this same Garden — and for one in vain!
Pàgina xii - ... your wooden Putter fling; The Club of Time has but a little while To waggle, and the Club is on the swing. Whether at Musselburgh or Shinnecock, In motley Hose or humbler motley Sock, The Cup of Life is ebbing Drop by Drop, Whether the Cup be filled with Scotch or Bock. A Bag of Clubs, a Silver-Town or two, A Flask of Scotch, a Pipe of Shag — and Thou Beside me caddying in the Wilderness — Ah, Wilderness were Paradise enow.
Pàgina xl - A Hair perhaps divides the False and True Yes ; and a single Alif were the clue — Could you but find it — to the Treasure-house, And peradventure to THE MASTER too...
Pàgina i - BY HW BOYNTON Wake! for the sun has driven in equal flight The stars before him from the Tee of Night, And holed them every one without a miss, Swinging at ease his gold-shod Shaft of Light. Now the fresh Year, reviving old Desires, The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires, Pores on this Club and That with anxious eye, And dreams of Rounds beyond the Rounds of Liars. Come, choose your ball, and in the Fire of Spring Your Red Coat, and your wooden Putter fling; The Club of Time has but a...
Pàgina lxxix - ... High — By which the Duffer thinks to live or die, Lift not your hands to IT for help, for it As impotently froths as you or I. Yon rising Moon that leads us Home again, How oft hereafter will she wax and wane; How oft hereafter rising wait for us At this same Turning — and for One in vain. And when, like her, my Golfer, I have been And am no more above the pleasant Green, And you in your mild Journey pass the Hole I made in One — ah ! pay my Forfeit then ! MR. DOOLEY ON REFORM CANDIDATES...

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