From The Topeka State Journal, August 23, 1913. By Grantland Rice.
The city lights are bright with flame where up and down the street
The city’s gleam flares up the way for countless drifting feet;
And yet, I often turn away, where through a window pane
A dim, old-fashioned candle light shines down a country lane.
The city has a thousand songs—a multitude to sing
A thousand voices sweep the night where dim cathedrals ring;
And yet I often turn away where all the morning through
A mocking bird calls back to me across the silver dew.
The city has a mighty voice—a siren voice that calls
Where Fame is pleading night and day within her star-crowned walls;
And yet I often turn away where in the fading light
A waiting mother used to call her boy in from the night.