In these lines, the speaker stands in a late afternoon at the edge of fall, watching the last light change over hills and pine woods. The air feels cool and motionless, colored in soft golds and sea-greens, but a black crow’s call makes the year itself feel old and tired. Small sounds—a woman singing from a doorway, a sheep-dog barking across the valley—only deepen the surrounding quiet. Then the birds leave, the sun drops behind the dark pines, and a faint wind rises like a sigh. The speaker doesn’t state a strong emotion directly, but the feeling is one of gentle sadness and acceptance: something warm and alive is slipping away. The poem creates a hushed, elegiac mood, as if the whole landscape is pausing to say goodbye to summer.
The Last of Summer — Summary
The opal afternoon Is cool, and very still. A wash of tawny air, Sea-green that melts to gold, Bathes all the skyline, hill by hill. Out of the black-topped pinelands A black crow calls, And the year seems old! A woman from a doorway sings, And from the valley-slope a sheep-dog barks, And through the umber woods the echo falls. Then silence on the still world lies, And faint and far the birds fly south, And behind the dark pines drops the sun, And a small wind wakes and sighs, And Summer, see, is done!