I am the family face;
Flesh perishes, I live on,
Projecting trait and trace
Through time to times anon,
And leaping from place to place
Over oblivion.
The years-heired feature that can
In curve and voice and eye
Despise the human span
Of durance - that is I;
The eternal thing in man,
That heeds no call to die.
- Thomas Hardy
I spotted this poem on the wall in the National Museum in Cardiff. I'm posting it for the Hui that I am, and for the ethnic literary education I'm having for myself!
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