58 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!SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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