The noon with golden crest;
When the sky burns, and the sun turns
With his face to the way of the west!

How swiftly he rose in the dawn of his strength;
How slowly he crept as the morning wore by;
Ah, steep was the climbing that led him at length
To the height of his throne in the blue summer
sky.
Oh, the long toil, and the slow toil,
The toil that may not rest,
Till the sun looks down from his journey's
crown,
To the wonderful way of the west!

AN AMERICAN IN EUROPE

'Tis fine to see the Old World, and travel up
and down
Among the famous palaces and cities of renown,
To admire the crumbly castles and the statues of
the kings,--
But now I think I've had enough of antiquated
things.

So it's home again, and home again, America for
me I
My heart is turning home again, and there I long to
be,
In the land of youth and freedom beyond the ocean