The speaker starts the day full of expectation, asking the lawn, the sea, and the morning itself if she is coming. The wildflowers, birch leaves, and birds all seem to share in that hope; the speaker tells the thrush and white-throat to sing more beautifully than ever because she will surely arrive. Then the poem turns to the afternoon, and the same landscape feels empty and sorrowful. The green lawn is lone, the light is grey, the birch leaves stir mournfully, and the birds’ notes sound thin and troubled. The final lines reveal that she did come, but only briefly: “she who came an hour ago / Has gone again.” Summer is now over, and with her leaving the whole season feels closed. The mood is one of excited hope collapsing into quiet grief and finality.
The Day — Summary
Dewy, dewy lawn-slopes, Is this the day she comes? O wild-flower face of Morning, Must you never wake? Silvery, silvery sea-line, Does she come to-day? O murmurous, murmurous birch-leaves, Beneath your whispering shadow She will surely pass; And thrush beneath the black-thorn And white-throat in the pine-top, Sing as you have never sung, For she will surely come!
The lone green of the lawn-slope, The grey light on the sky-line, The mournful stir of birch-leaves, The thin note of the brown thrush, And the call of troubled white-throats Across the afternoon!-- Ah, Summer now is over, And for us the season closed, For she who came an hour ago Has gone again-- Has gone!