The Golfer’s Epitaph

I recently found this poem among my golf poetry materials. It appears to be from a book, but I can’t provide a reference.

The Golfer’s Epitaph

When I have played my last stroke through,
When I have putted my last ball down,
Dig my grave ‘neath the sky’s own blue,
Far from the smoke and din of the town.
Plant me beneath the 18th green
With never a tear when I am done,
My epitaph by all men seen;
“Dead to the hole and down in one.”