It All Depends On The Lies – Golf Poetry

IT ALL DEPENDS ON THE LIES 
WHAT though you have your stance O.K., 
Your swing and follow through; 
What though you have the nerve and play 
Quite as top-notchers do ; 
Eye quite correct, in distance up, 
Your putting a surprise — 
Yet you're not sure to win the cup ! 
It all depends upon the lies. 




What though your pro does seventy-eight, 
And you a ninety-two ; 
The latter, not a rapid gait, 
Seems very good to you. 
But lo ! some stranger to the links 
Turns up, a "lonesome" tries; 
His card reads seventy-six, he thinks! 
It all depends upon the lies. 
What though she daily breaks a stick, 
In ev'ry hazard falls; 
What though she dots the fair green thick 
With divots, and she mauls 
Her irons into stones and such, 
You can't deny she tries 
To keep her score from mounting much! 
It all depends upon the lies. 
Arthur Hinds, In Lyrics of the Links, published in 1921

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