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The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 9, Issue 8 (November 1, 1934)

The Solace of Sol

The Solace of Sol.

Man is the son and heir of sun and air. Sol is his solace. The sun is his light and delight, the lamp of his love, and the inspiration for his aspiration. He beams in its beams; he is raised by its rays; its face is his fortune; its fortune is his fate. It fires his imagination and incinerates his agitation. From primordial slime its heat hatched him and its warmth weaned him. Truly he is a sol-e-cism, a sun-kist gropefruit, a sun-baked brick, a burnt offering. Man is the mirror that reflects the rays that raised him. His soul lilts in light When the sun's bright, man's right. When the sun's clouded, his soul's shrouded. Catch him when the sun dapples the dormer and lights the lintel and you have the happy homo, the optimisticm it, the flipper-ino of fellowship and the face that launched a thousand “chips.” But, impinge on his immersion when the sun is soused in southerly suds and the heavens hiccough heavily, and you meet the cold isosceles eye which, as you know, is an optical delusion having only two equal sides, both of which are his. For his soul is sun-starved, his outlook is ingroan, his corpuscles are corrugated, his mind is as dark as a mouse in an ink factory, and his welcome is as cheery as flat beer. He is a sunflower in a cellar, a beam in a moat, a botfly in a bottle and a mosquito in a wax-works. Let him defy and deny, but he is a worshipper of the omniscient orb, an acolyte of light, a son of the sun, a sunny boy.