I drew the letter out, while gleamed

The sloping sun from under a roof

Of cloud whose verge rose visibly.

The burning ball flung rays that seemed

Stretched like a warp without a woof

Across the levels of the lea

To where I stood, and where they beamed

As brightly on the page of proof

That she had shown her false to me

As if it had shown her true—had teemed

With passionate thought for my behoof

Expressed with their own ardency!