The First Lesson. By Emily Dickinson

    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.