Not in this World to see his face— Sounds long—until I read the place Where this—is said to be But just the Primer—to a life— Unopened—rare—Upon the Shelf— Clasped yet—to Him—and Me—
And yet—My Primer suits me so I would not choose—a Book to know Than that—be sweeter wise— Might some one else—so learned—be— And leave me—just my A—B—C— Himself—could have the Skies—
