He's the man from Eldorado, and he gives a grand affair; There's feasting, dancing, wine without restraint. The smooth Beau Brummels of the bar, the faro men, are there; The tinhorns and purveyors of red paint; The sleek and painted women, their predacious eyes aglow -- Sure Klondike City never saw the like; Then Muckluck Mag proposed the toast, "The giver of the show, The livest sport that ever hit the pike." The "live one" rises to his feet; he stammers to reply -- And then there comes before his muddled brain A vision of green vastitudes beneath an April sky, And clover pastures drenched with silver rain. He knows that it can never be, that he is down and out; Life leers at him with foul and fetid breath; And then amid the revelry, the song and cheer and shout, He suddenly grows grim and cold as death. He grips the table tensely, and he says: "Dear friends of mine, I've let you dip your fingers in my purse; I've crammed you at my table, and I've drowned you in my wine, ANd I've little left to give you but -- my curse. I've failed supremely in my plans; it's rather late to whine; My poke is mighty weasened up and small. I thank you each for coming here; the happiness is mine -- And now, you thieves and harlots, take it all." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HELEN OF TROY by SARA TEASDALE GASCOIGNE'S GOOD MORROW by GEORGE GASCOIGNE THE LAST DEMAND by FAITH BALDWIN FROM AN OFFICE WINDOW by FRANCES M. BALLARD MORE WALKS by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM MALEFACTORS by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN MATRIMONIAL MELODIES: 2. RESTORATION by BERTON BRALEY |