im on his success. The admiral having listened to an
account of the action, dragged off the general to see some improvements
on the farm; the Indies of the family left the room, and Pearce Ripley
heard from Alice's own lips that her father fully sanctioned their
union. He claimed a sailor's privilege, and before a month had passed
their marriage took place.

Bonham obtained his post rank, and though he had not the talent of his
friend, he ever proved himself an active efficient officer. Harry
Verner quitted the service, finding that, notwithstanding his
connections, his merits were not appreciated, and that he was not likely
to obtain his promotion. He soon afterwards broke his neck out hunting.
Sir Pearce Ripley commanded several line of battle ships, and took an
active part in three of England's greatest naval victories. He in due
course became an admiral, and was created a baronet, and his sons
entering the navy rose to the highest rank in their noble profession.

CHAPTER SIX.

VOICES OF THE NIGHT.

PRELUDE.

Pleasant it was, when woods were green,
And winds were soft and low,
To lie amid some sylvan scene,
Where, the long drooping boughs between,
Shadows dark and sunlight sheen
Alternate come and go;

Or where the denser grove receives
No sunlight from above,
But the dark foliage interweaves
In one unbroken roof of leaves,
Underneath whose sloping eaves
The shadows hardly move.

Beneath some patriarchal tree
I lay upon the ground;
His hoary arms uplifted he,
And all the broad leaves over me
Clapped their little hands in glee,
With one continuous sound--

A slumberous sound,--a sound that brings
The feelings of a dream--
As of innumerable wings,
As, when a bell no longer swings,
Paint the hollow murmur rings
O'er meadow, lake, and stream.

And dreams of that which cannot die.
Bright visions, came to me,
As lapped in thought I used to lie,
And gaze into the summer sky,
Where the sailing clouds went by,
Like ships upon the sea;

Dreams that the soul of youth engage
Ere Fancy has been quelled;
Old legends of the monkish page,
Traditions of the saint and sage,
Tales that have the rime of age,
And chronicles of Eld.

And, loving still these quaint old themes,
Even in the city's throng
I feel the freshness of the streams,
That, crossed by shades and sunn