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 could 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. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CITIES OF THE PLAIN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS NOTHING WILL CURE THE SICK LION BUT TO EAT AN APE' by MARIANNE MOORE COUNSEIL TO A BACHELER by MARIANNE MOORE APRIL by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS |