In just five short lines, the speaker sketches a way of living. He paints when someone pays him, stays for dinner when it's offered, and doesn't worry that his house is a mess. It sounds relaxed, even a little proud, like someone shrugging off the tidy habits other people expect. The title, "Bohemian life," tells us how to read this: it's a portrait of an artist who has chosen looseness over polish.
The last two lines turn it into something sharper and funnier. "Dress me in white / and I turn very ill" can be read as a joke about paint and stains, since a painter in white clothes is asking for trouble. It also hints at something bigger. White suggests neatness, formality, and respectability, and the speaker says that world would make him sick. The sound helps too: the rhymes of "pay," "stay," "mess," and "dress" give the poem a quick, offhand rhythm. The mood is easygoing, wry, and stubbornly independent.