'Nature is mortal; we shall out live her. When all the suns and the nebulae have passed away each one of you will still be alive. Nature is only the image, the symbol . . . We are summoned to pass in through Nature, beyond her, into the splendor which she fitfully reflects. And in there, is beyond Nature, we shall eat of the tree of life.
We do not want merely to see beauty, though God knows, even that is bounty enough. We want something else that can hardly be put into words -- to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to bathe into it, to become part of it. . . . That is why the poets tell us such lovely falsehoods. They talk as if the west wind could really sweep into a human soul; bit it can't . . . Or not yet.
Meanwhile the cross comes before the crown and tomorrow is Monday morning. A cleft has opened in the pitiless walls of the world, and we are invited to follow the great Captain inside.'
-C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory