"God's truth is literal truth. The illumined mind has more operative cells. In reclaiming the mystical, we take back our whole selves. Formerly barren mental lands spring to new life through the planting of spiritual seeds."

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When winter stern, his gloomy front uprears, A sable void the barren earth appears; The meads no more their former verdure boast, Fast-bound their streams, and all their beauty lost; The herds, the flocks, in icy garments mourn, and wildly murmur for the Spring's return; From snow-topp'd hills the whirlwinds keenly blow, Howl through the woods, and pierce the vales below, Through the sharp air a flaky torrent flies, Mocks the slow sight, and hides the gloomy skies.

— George Crabbe