“I am the family face,” Thomas Hardy wrote. “Flesh perishes, I live on.” These lines come from his poem “Heredity,” a melancholy and wondering meditation on the “curve and voice and eye” that carry on long after our ancestors have returned to dust. “The eternal thing in man,” Hardy says, “That heeds no call to die.”
The Family Face -- and Gesture?
The Family Face -- and Gesture?
The Family Face -- and Gesture?
“I am the family face,” Thomas Hardy wrote. “Flesh perishes, I live on.” These lines come from his poem “Heredity,” a melancholy and wondering meditation on the “curve and voice and eye” that carry on long after our ancestors have returned to dust. “The eternal thing in man,” Hardy says, “That heeds no call to die.”