How straight it flew - how long it flew, It clear'd the rutty track, and soaring, disappeared from view beyond the bunker's back. A glorious, sailing, bounding drive, that made me glad I was alive. And down the fairway, far along, it glowed a lonely white. I played an iron, sure and strong, and clipp'd it out of sight. And spite of grassy banks between, I knew I'd find it on the green.