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Delayed till she had ceased to know-
Delayed till in its vest of snow
Her loving bosom lay-
An hour behind the fleeting breath-
Later by just an hour than Death-
Oh lagging Yesterday!

Could she have guessed that it would be-
Could but a crier of the joy
Have climbed the distant hill-
Had not the bliss so slow a pace
Who knows but this surrendered face
Were undefeated still?

Oh if there may departing be
Any forgot by Victory
In her imperial round-
Show them this meek appareled thing
That could not stop to be a king-
Doubtful if it be crowned!