Four short lines hold a surprisingly full picture of a mind under strain. The speaker begins with a striking image: the mind as a crowded altar, a place meant for devotion that has become packed with too many things. It suggests thoughts, worries, or beliefs all competing for space and attention, so that nothing has room to stand clearly.
Then the poem turns outward. The speaker hears an owl in the garden and calls its cry "music," but the owl is mourning "the loss of all the notes." That is a quiet paradox. The sound is beautiful, yet it expresses a sense of absence, as if something richer once existed and has gone missing.
The title, "Exclusion," seems to link the two halves. A mind that is too full may shut out simplicity, silence, or the natural world. The mood is hushed, wistful, and a little lonely, with the speaker listening closely and feeling the loss alongside the owl.