El Dorado is a short story by Robert Louis Stevenson: It seems as if a great deal were attainable in a world where there are so many marriages and decisive battles, and where we all, at certain hours of the day, and with great gusto and despatch, stow a portion of victuals finally and irretrievably into the bag which contains us. And it would seem also, on a hasty view, that the attainment of as much as possible was the one goal of man's contentious life.
There's a whisper down the field where the year has shot her yield,And the ricks stand gray to the sun,Singing: -- "Over then, come over, for the bee has quit the clover,And your English summer's done."You have heard the beat of the off-shore wind,And the thresh of the deep-sea rain;You have heard the song -- how long! how long?Pull out on the trail again!