(Lord’s day). At church in the morning, a stranger preached a good honest and painfull sermon. My wife and I dined upon a chine of beef at Sir W. Batten’s, so to church again. Then home, and put some papers in order. Then to supper at Sir W. Batten’s again, where my wife by chance fell down and hurt her knees exceedingly. So home and to bed.
Each honest pain
upon a chin? A church—
a chance hurt.
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 17 March 1660/61.