(Lord’s day). At church in the morning; where in the pew both Sir Williams and I had much talk about the death of Sir Robert, which troubles me much; and them in appearance, though I do not believe it; because I know that he was a cheque to their engrossing the whole trade of the Navy office. Home to dinner, and in the afternoon to church again, my wife with me, whose mourning is now grown so old that I am ashamed to go to church with her. And after church to see my uncle and aunt Wight, and there staid and talked and supped with them, and were merry as we could be in their company. Among other things going up into their chamber to see their two pictures, which I am forced to commend against my judgment, and also she showed us her cabinet, where she had very pretty medals and good jewels. So home and to prayers and to bed.
death in a hole
of whose mourning
now grown so old
it could be anything
going up against us
where we pray
Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sunday 27 October 1661.
This one’s amazing. “now grown so old / it could be anything” Yes!
Thanks, Peter. I’m glad that resonated.