Familiar Beauty

By George Sterling

Like boyhood friends that go and come again,
    They come remembered by the heart and eyes,
    With grace of wonted things to end our sighs,
And happiness that has its part in pain:
The tender welcome of an old refrain
    That tells of motherhood before it dies;
    The smoke of home, seen against evening skies;
The breath of asters in autumnal rain.

Day done, who shall not say that these are best?
    Beauty forgotten, were not these her ways?
        Homesick, were not this voice in alien lands?—
Amber and umber of the twilight west;
    Scents that call back the long-departed days,
        And music like the touch of loving hands.

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