Delayed till she had ceased to know. 
Delayed till in it's 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 remaining 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!