When I recovered my senses, I was lying in bed, with Ada and my aunt both watching by my side. The poor dear old lady had so brooded over the ghost-stories of the house, and so unselfishly denied herself the relief of talking them over with me, that, pressing heavily on her thoughts, they had unsettled her mind in sleep. Constantly ruminating on the terror of that ghostly walk, she had unconsciously risen night after night, and most cleverly accomplished it herself. Comparing dates, I found that she had learned the story of the spirit only a few days before the night on which I had first been terrified by the footstep. The news of Aunt Featherstone's escapade flew quickly through the house. It caused so many laughs, that the genuine ghosts soon fell into ill repute. The legend of the weeping lady's rambles became divested of its dignity, and grew therefore to be quite harmless. Ada and I laughed over our adventure every night during the rest of her stay, and entered upon our Christmas festivities with right goodwill. I have never forgotten to be grateful to Ada for that good service which she rendered me; and as for Aunt Featherstone, I must own that she never again said one word in disparagement of the Thatched House. ------ {72} From the German. THE RESURRECTION. Rise? Yes, with the myriads of the just, After short sleep, my dust! Life of immortal fire Thine from the Almighty Sire! Alleluia! Sown, to upspring, O joy! in richer bloom, The Lord of harvest's tomb Gives forth his sheaves within---- Us, even us, who died in him! Alleluia! O victory! O dayspring's kindling ray! God's everlasting day! In the grave's solemn night. Slumbering, soon shall thy light Wake me to sight. As if of visionary dream the end---- With Jesus to ascend Through joy's celestial door---- Pilgrims of earth no more---- Our sorrows o'er. My Saviour, to the Holiest leading on; That we may at the throne, In sanctuary free. Worship eternally! Alleluia! F. W. P. ------ {73} Original AUBREY DE VERE. [Footnote 20] [Footnote 20: Search after Proserpine, and other Poems. London, 1843. Poems. by Aubrey de Vere. London, 1855. The Sisters, Inisfail, and other Poems. London, 1861 May Carols. New York: Lawrence Kehoe, 1866.]