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[[clipping]] "HE AND SHE."
By Edwin Arnold, Author of "He Who Died at Azan."

"She is dead! they said to him: "Come away. Kiss her and leave her--thy love is clay!"
They smoothed her tresses of dark brown hair;
On her forehead of stone they laid it fair;

Over her eyes that gazed too much,
They drew the lids with a gentle touch;

With a tender touch they closed up well
The sweet thin lips that had secrets to tell;

About her brows and beautiful face
They tied her veil 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--
"Come away!" they said--"God understands."

And 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 die, lies she."

And they held their breath as they left the room,
With a shudder, to glance at its stillness and gloom.

But he who loved her too well to dread
The sweet, the stately, the beautiful dead,

He lit his lamp and took the key
And turned it--alone gain-- he and she.

He and she: but she would not speak,
Tho' he kissed, in the old place, the quiet cheek.

He and she; yet she would not smile,
Tho' he called her the name she loved erewhile.

He and she; still did not move
To any one passionate whisper of love.

Then he said: "Cold lips and breasts 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, I 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 life's flower fall?

"Or was it a greater marvel to feel
The perfect calm o'er 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 clear?

"And was it the innermost heart of the bliss
To find out so, what a wisdom love is?

"O perfect dead! O dead most dear,
I hold the breath of my soul to hear!

"I 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 feet!

"I would tell you, darling, if I were dead,
And 'twere your hot tears upon my brow shed--

"I 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 Death's was the chiefest surprise,

"The very strangest and suddenest thing
Of all the surprises that dying must bring."

Ah, foolish world; oh, most kind dead!
Though he told me, who will believe it was said?

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, I have never died." [[/clipping]]

[[clipping]] FUNERAL OF E. D. E. GREENE. N. A.
The funeral of E. D. E. Greene, the artist, took place yesterday afternoon, at 4 o'clock, in the Academy of Design, at Fourth-ave. and Twenty-third-st. Mr. Greene was one of the founders of the Academy, and since October, 1865, its Treasurer. At 4 o'clock a large company of ladies and gentlemen, embracing academicians, artists and persons engaged in literary pursuits and the professions, assembled at the Academy, filling the Council chamber and the two adjoining rooms which form the library. Among those present were Miss Harriet Erving, a relative, and Mr. Greene's two nieces, daughters of Benjamin E. Greene, deceased; also Royal Phelps, Algernon S. Sullivan, Dorman B. Eaton, Eastman Johnson, J. Q. A. Ward, George Hall, Mr. Yewell, Colonel Ward, Sanford R. Gifford. I. A. Wilmarth, Mr. Tait, Mr. Pratt, Vincent Colyer, Mr. Van Elten, Mr. Beard and Mr. Shurtleff. The pall-bearers were D. Huntington, president of the Academy, T. W. Wood, T. Addison Richards, W. Whittredge, Francis C. Bowman, W. H. Fogg, Henry L. Dyer, E. A. Caswell, Townsend Cox and John H. Platt.

In the centre of the middle room the coffin rested among numerous beautiful floral offerings. The coffin plate bore his full name, "Edward Dana Erving Greene. He was born at Boston, February 22, 1823. Near the coffin was his portrait resting on a draped easel. The services were conducted by the Rev. Dr. William R. Williams, of the Amity Baptist Church in Fifty-fourth-st., and the Rev. Dr. Anderson, the pastor of the Baptist Church in Park-ave. Members of the Mendelssohn Glee Club sang Fleming's "Integer Vitae." and the hymns "Abide with Me" and "Nearer, my God, to Thee." At 8 o'clock in the evening the remains were placed on board a Boston train, and the interment will take place to day at Forest Hills Cemetry. [[/clipping]]

will go to Rondout today. Very hot day. Went down to see Jake Sharp. Found him in his office and very glad to see me. He is very shaky and thinks he grows more so, but looks well and suffers no pain. I took a letter I wrote to Gertrude from Annapolis in 1861 in which I describe a visit to Jake, and read it to him.

Tuesday. July 1. 1879.
Went home Saturday on the Powell. Eastman, his wife and Ethel went along. Andrews & Lucy and May and Calvert went to Fishkill. It rained Sunday but we had a nice visit and the Johnsons came home by Powell Monday morning. Lucy, Andrews & Pa went to Stamford Monday, they staying over to go to Fergusonville to see about the school in Pa returning same day. I came down this morning and have been making my preparations to leave for East Hampton tomorrow. Mary, Calvert & Mrs. Morrell were on the Powell. A letter from Mrs. Sawyer this morning and one from Lily French this evening telling me they were to leave this morning. Wrote to Sara and a note to Eastman.

Monday Jul 21. 1879. I went to East Hampton July 2. Met Dr Yale at the depot who introduced me to two young ladies by the name of with whom I talked