The Vanished Country Poem by Henry Grantland Rice

Back in the Vanished Country
There's a cabin in the lane,
Across the yellow sunshine
And the silver of the rain;
A cabin, summer-shaded,
Where the maples whispered low
Dream stories of the southwind
That a fellow used to know;
And it's queer that, turning gray,
Still a fellow looks away
To a dream he knows has vanished
Down the Path of Yesterday.

Back in the Vanished Country
There's an old-time swinging gate
Through the early dusk of summer
Where a girl had come to wait;
And her hair was like the sundrift
From the heart of summer skies
While the blue of God's wide heaven
Crowned the splendor of her eyes;
And it's queer that turning gray,
Still a fellow looks away
To a dream he knows has vanished
Down the Path of Yesterday.

Back in the Vanished Country
There's a dream that used to be,
Of Fame within the City
And a name beyond the sea;
A dream of laurel wreathings
That came singing through the night
The story of the glory
Of the victor in the fight;
And it's queer that, worn and gray,
Still a fellow looks away
To a dream he knows has vanished
Down the Path of Yesterday.