[T]hough remote / From the main ocean many a mile / Inflooded past cape, creek, and kyle, / The sea-loch flanked by precipice walls, / With ever-lessening murmur crawls, / Till 'neath the Pass he lies subdued / By the o'er-aweing solitude; […]
With that the Goddess (piteous of his case, Yet smiling at his ruful length of face) Gives him a cov’ring,
I stress that a golfer cannot ever be too boneless or too loose, nor too muscleless.
His being suspicious, dubious, cautelous, and not soon determined, but hesitatory at unusual occurrences in his office
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