Wolf Hall Chapters: To Wolf Hall
The perfect painted family of Sir Thomas More
hangs there upon the wall;
Still, serene
in a ray of evening light,
A solemn speechless face
begins to fade.
Having knowledge of the world
and nearly all persons thereof,
the bounds of the earth and of gold;
Divers kingdoms
broken and poured out before him,
He selects his king, measures crown and cloth
and Master Secretary picks up his pen.
The Journal is a section where I post weekly poems responding to Hilary Mantel’s Wolf Hall trilogy. Here’s last week’s edition: