The speaker addresses someone whose home she passes, and her affection shows in how she notices every small detail: the stone at the doorstep, the path just outside it, the briar growing at the edges, and the young plants pushing up around it. She loves these ordinary boundaries, not because she enters, but because they belong to the person she cares for.
At night, walking by in a quiet, proper way, she does not call out or approach. Instead she smiles toward the window and bows to the light inside. The mood is tender and restrained, full of longing kept in check. There is intimacy in her attention, but also distance: she remains a passer, content to worship from outside.