My heart is like a driver-club, That heaves the pellet hard and straight,That carries every let and rub, The whole performance really great;My heart is like a bulger-head, That whiffles on the wily tee,Because my love has kindly said She'll halve the round of life with me.
My heart is also like a cleek, Resembling most the mashie sort,That spanks the object, so to speak, Across the sandy bar to port;And hers is like a putting-green, The haven where I boast to be,For she assures me she is keen To halve the round of life with me.
Raise me a bunker, if you can, That beetles o'er a deadly ditch,Where any but the bogey-man Is practically bound to pitch;Plant me beneath a hedge of thorn, Or up a figurative tree,What matter, when my love has sworn To halve the round of life with me?
