The day has pass’d in storms, though not unmix’d
With transitory calm.   The western clouds,
Dissolving slow, unveil the glorious sun,
Majestic in decline.   The wat’ry east
Glows with the many-tinted arch of Heav’n.
We hail it as a pledge that brighter skies
Shall bless the coming morn.   Thus rolls the day,
The short dark day of life;   with tempests thus,
And fleeting sun-shine chequer’d.   At its close,
When the dread hour draws near, that bursts all ties,
All commerce with the world, Religion pours
Hope’s fairy-colors on the virtuous mind,
And, like the rain-bow on the ev’ning clouds,
Gives the bright promise that a happier dawn
Shall chase the night and silence of the grave.

Poet Bio

What People are Saying

"Performing a poem out loud of my choosing created this new and more personal connection to poetry for me. In addition, POL gave me the confidence that I never thought I had and it taught me that I could apply it everywhere I went. "
Cayla Turner
2018 MD POL Champ