The poem imagines a strange kind of correspondence. Someone writes a letter about the "bad condition of the money" and hands it to the sea, which accepts it graciously. The title suggests a message cast adrift, sent without any expectation of a human reader. The speaker seems to be dealing with money worries, and the sea is the only listener willing to take them in.
The second stanza turns more personal. The speaker admits to lying to God but not to the rain, as if honesty comes easier with something that can't judge. Their mind is "full of money," pictured as "a little green chamber," a phrase that suggests both the colour of banknotes and a small, closed-in room where thoughts keep circling.
The mood is quiet, wry, and a little trapped. There's dry humour in the sea receiving the letter so well, but underneath it sits a sense of anxiety and loneliness, and a need to tell the truth to someone, or something.