The speaker looks at what they will leave behind and finds it is not money or a name but a single rock covered in moss. They call it one of the finest in the forest, and there is a quiet pride in that, as if being remembered through something small and living is enough. The title suggests the speaker is someone who gathers moss, so the rock may be both a keepsake and a kind of life's work.
Then the poem turns. The rock is compared to an "ill face," gentle but swollen with pain. Suddenly the soft green surface looks like skin, and the stone seems to carry suffering. The comparison is unsettling, and it may hint that the speaker sees themselves in the rock: quiet and tender on the outside, hurting underneath.
The mood is hushed and tender, with sadness running beneath it. The poem leaves us unsure whether the legacy is a gift or a burden, and that uncertainty is what lingers.