Ossians Lied nach dem Falle Nathos

Bend forward from your clouds, ghosts of my

fathers! Lay the red terror of your course.

Receive the falling chief; whether he comes

from a distant land or rises from

the rolling sea. Let his robe of mist be near;

his spear that is formed of a cloud. Place an half-

extinguished meteor by his side in the form

of the hero's sword. And oh! let his countenance be

lovely, that his friends may delight in

his presence. Bend from your clouds,' I said.

'Ghosts of my fathers! Bend!'