Panama

Down near the heart of the Tropics
Where the Trade Winds blow all day,
Where the Southern Cross is shining
And the flying fishes play;
Down where the days when ended
Sink fast to a peaceful death,
Where the gorgeous, glowing sunsets
Are as short as a baby's breath;
Down where the palms are waving
And thermometers always climb,
Is the land of the missing twilights,
In North Latitude, almost nine.