Author: Emily Dickinson  | Date: 1890


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 glee

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 apparelled thing,

That could not stop to be a king,

Doubtful if it be crowned!


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Chicago: Emily Dickinson, "II.," Poems in Library of the Future ® 4th Edition Ver. 5.0 (Irvine, CA: World Library, Inc., 1996), Original Sources, accessed April 22, 2019, http://www.originalsources.com/Document.aspx?DocID=CNQVR594VYTX6EX.

MLA: Dickinson, Emily. "II." Poems, in Library of the Future ® 4th Edition Ver. 5.0, Irvine, CA, World Library, Inc., 1996, Original Sources. 22 Apr. 2019. www.originalsources.com/Document.aspx?DocID=CNQVR594VYTX6EX.

Harvard: Dickinson, E, 'II.' in Poems. cited in 1996, Library of the Future ® 4th Edition Ver. 5.0, World Library, Inc., Irvine, CA. Original Sources, retrieved 22 April 2019, from http://www.originalsources.com/Document.aspx?DocID=CNQVR594VYTX6EX.