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But the same tone runs through Goethe's classical "Walpurgis Night," where the old human "twelve gods," the antitypes and the friends of men, in whom our forefathers delighted, have vanished utterly, and given place to semi-physical Nereides, Tritons, Telchines, Psylli, and Seismos himself.
When, bright with mellow sunshine, it reflects the intense blue of the ocean sky above, with a brisk breeze topping its many-furrowed waves that are racing by and leaping over each other like a parcel of schoolboys at play and cutting off sheets and sparkling showers of the prismatic foam that exhibits every tint of the rainbow azure and orange, violet, light-green, and pale luminous white, scatters it broadcast into the air around; whence it falls into yeasty hollows, a sort of feathery snow of a fairy texture, just suited for the bridal veils of the Nereides only to be churned over again and tossed up anew by the wanton wind in its frolicsome mirth.
On each side her Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids, With diverse colour'd fans, whose wind did seem To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool, And what they undid did. "Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, So many mermaids, tended her i' the eyes, And made their bends adornings.
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