He's the man from Eldorado, and he's had a bite and sup, And he's met in with a drouthy friend or two; He's cached away his gold-dust, but he's sort of bucking up, So he's kept enough to-night to see him through. His eye is bright and genial, his tongue no longer lags; His heart is brimming o'er with joy and mirth; He may be far from savory, he may be clad in rags, But to-night he feels as if he owns the earth. Says he: "Boys, here is where the shaggy North and I will shake; I thought I'd never manage to get free. I kept on making misses; but at last I've got my stake; There's no more thawing frozen muck for me. I am going to God's Country, where I'll live the simple life; I'll buy a bit of land and make a start; I'll carve a little homestead, and I'll win a little wife, And raise ten little kids to cheer my heart." They signified their sympathy by crowding to the bar; They bellied up three deep and drank his health. He shed a radiant smile around and smoked a rank cigar; They wished him honor, happiness and wealth. They drank unto his wife to be -- that unsuspecting maid; They drank unto his children half a score; And when they got through drinking very tenderly they laid The man from Eldorado on the floor. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A FINE DAY by KATHERINE MANSFIELD VIGNETTES OVERSEAS: 9. VILLA SEBELLONI, BELLAGGIO by SARA TEASDALE ALMANZOR & ALMAHIDE, OR THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA: PART 2. EPILOGUE by JOHN DRYDEN THE WISTFUL DAYS by ROBERT UNDERWOOD JOHNSON PROSOPOPOIA, OR MOTHER HUBBERDS TALE by EDMUND SPENSER COMPOSED BY THE SEA-SIDE NEAR CALAIS [AUGUST 1802] by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH AT THE FIRESIDE by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS STANZAS TO AN AFFECTIONATE AND PIOUS PARENT, ON THE DEATH OF HER CHILD by BERNARD BARTON |