The speaker is caught between a mountain and a picture of one. The first lines describe painting a peak "like a peak" and picking out a sage plant for the bedside, as if the mountain could be brought indoors in small, manageable pieces. But the second stanza admits the problem: how do you actually keep that peak, especially now that it has become part of the plain, blending into flat ground? The poem seems to suggest the mountain is slipping out of reach, whether through distance, changing light, or the limits of art.
The ending is quiet and surprising. Rather than trying harder to hold the mountain, the speaker decides to tell their heart to "change lodgings." It reads as a gentle surrender: if the mountain can't be possessed, the heart can move on, or perhaps move into the mountain instead. The mood is wistful and calm, with a touch of humor in how plainly the speaker talks to their own heart.