May it not at last await me in that garden
To which we bleed our way through all this waste?—
One cup—some little chalice that will hold
One drop that will not shudder into mist
Till I have drained it.
Passages of this sort might be duplicated in El Dorado, were they not too long to quote with the context necessary to them.
The passage cited above holds a deep suggestion in the lines:—
One drop that will not shudder into mist
Till I have drained it.
Here is human longing epitomized; and again the words in which Coronado speaks, as he thinks, to the shade of Beatrix,—