Early at Sir Wm. Pen’s, and there before Mr. Turner did reconcile the business of the purveyance between us two. Then to Whitehall to my Lord’s, and dined with him, and so to Whitefriars and saw “The Spanish Curate,” in which I had no great content.
So home, and was very much troubled that Will staid out late, and went to bed angry, intending not to let him come in, but by and by he comes and I did let him in, and he did tell me that he was at Guildhall helping to pay off the seamen, and cast the books late. Which since I found to be true. So to sleep, being in bed when he came.
The business of the Lord
is in a tent. I went
to bed angry, but by and by
I let him tell me all.
I am the Book I sleep in.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 16 March 1660/61.
I really like this poem Dave! Thanks for pointing the way here. Catherine
Thanks for making the effort to comment! (Though really, just replying to the emails is fine, too. Feedback always appreciated in whatever form.)
I love this one. A sweet progression from tent to bed to Book. Going from memory here — was it Jeremiah? “Thy words feels like that verse for me, mixed with some David- or Jonah-like anger at God.
Last week I taught some of Pepys’s diary. Of course, I thought of you.
Ah, I’m glad to hear this one resonated with you. I was just happy for an excuse to use “holy roller” in a title — it’s such a great term.
Oops. Somehow I hollowed out my comment. Take two:
I love this one. A sweet progression from tent to bed to Book. Going from memory here — was it Jeremiah? “Thy words were found and I did eat them, and thy words were unto me the joy and rejoicing of my heart.” The “Book I sleep in” feels like that verse for me, mixed with some David- or Jonah-like anger at God.
Yep. It’s good to have at least one reader who knows the bible.