Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1879-07-03
POETRY.
"HE AND SHE"

ED. CHRONICLE:-The following ex
quisite poem has been going the round,
of the press for several years. but so fal
as l have seen, no author has beer
given. 1t was written by Edwin Arnold
a barrister of London, who seldom
writes, but everything from his pen i,
of singular beauty. ].
"She is deadv' They said to him: Come
away.
Kiss her and leave her-thy love is clay ?
They smoothed her treSSes of darl
brown hair;
On her forehead of stone they laid il
fair;
Over her eyes that gazed too much,
They drew the lids with gentle touch
With tender touch they closed up well
The sweet thin lips that had secrets to
tell;
About her brows and beautiful face
They tied her vail and her marriage lace
And drew on her white feet her white
silk shoes;
Which were the whitest no eye could
choose.
And over her bosom they crossed her
hands r.e
@Come awayr' they said-@God under
stands"
AM there was silence, and nothing
there
But silence, and scents of eglantere,
And jasmine, and roses, and rosemary;
And they said: "As a lady should lie,
lies She"
And they held their breath as they left
the room,
With shudder, to glance at its stiffness
aud gloom. 2ds.s Aytaslf.
But he who loved her too well to dread
The sweet, the stately, the beautiful
.l1Eu dead, q eL504 -lL al-4i.s
He lit his lamp and took the key
And turned it-alone again--he and she.
He and she; but she would not speak,
Tho he kissed in the old place. the quiet
VI cheek. IE
He and she; still she did not move
To any one passionate whisper of love.
Then he said: "Cold lips and breast
without breath,
Is there no voice, no language of death,
dumb to the ear and still to the sense,
But to heart and to soul distinct,
intense?
"See now; will listen with soul, not
ear;
What was the secret of dying, dear?
"Was it the infinite wonder of all
That you ever could let lifes flower fall
"0r was it a greater marvel to feel
The perfect calm DER the agony steal?
'Was the miracle greater to find how
deep
Beyond all dreams sank downward that
sleep?
@Did life roll back its records, dear,
And show, as they say it does, past
things clear2
"And was it the innermost heart of the
bliss -tL
To find out so, what wisdom love is?
20 perfect dead o dead most dear,
hold the breath of my soul to heart
al listen as deep as to horrible hell,
As high as to heaven, and you do not
tell
There must be pleasure in dying sweet,
To make you so placid from head to
feeti
81 would tell you darling, if 1 were dead,
And 'twere your hot tears upon my
brow she'd
Il would say, though the Angel of Death
had laid
His sword on my lips to keep it unsaid.
You should not ask vainly, with
streaming eyes,
Which of all deaths was the chiefest
surprise.
"The very strangest and suddenest
thing
Of all the surprises that dying must
bring"
All, foolish world; oh, most kind dead I
Though he told me, who will believe it
was saidp
Who will believe that he heard her say.
With the sweet, soft voice, in the dear
old way:
'The utmost wonder is this-I hear
And see you, and love you, and kiss you,
dear;
"And am your angel, who was your
bride,
And know that, though dead, L have
never died"
Il Baldwin's Monthly.