Page 74 - Poetry-Whimsy

To a Girl Golfer

Take a helpless little ball, If your strength and courage stand
Drive it into space; Such unwonted strain,
If perchance you see it fall, By-and-by your ball will land
Try to find the place. On a little plain,
And, as it is very small, Near a hole—you understand—
Hit again that hapless ball Into which you putt it and
With a savage grace. Then begin again.

—(The Girl’s Own Paper, 1899)

Before and After

Picnic morning Picnic evening,
Bright and fair, What a plight!
Golden sunshine, Rained from 10
Balmy air. O’clock till night.
What a pleasure Flossy garments,
Thus to go Once so nice,
Where the woodland Filled with mud
Breezes blow. And beggars’ lice.
Happy hours, Dinner ruined,
Free from care, Pies and cakes
Joy and beauty Food for ants
Everywhere. And garter snakes.
Through the leafy Full of doleful
Woods we’ll stray Dank dismay,
Gracious, gladsome Dirty, drizzly
Picnic day. Picnic day.

—(from a Victorian Scrap Album)

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