The poem watches a crowd from the outside, or at least from a little distance. The speaker sees how "everybody turns like the green blind corn," moving together, all facing the same way without really seeing. Meanwhile the speaker and a companion "clamber among the trees," a restless, slightly awkward picture of being apart from the group. Then the scene shifts indoors, to a small room where people seem bewildered, unsure what to do with themselves.
The title suggests a gathering with set rules, and the poem seems to be about how those rules take over. The strange last lines, "have the outside killed" and "ready up beds in the same room," hint at people shutting out the natural world and settling into sameness, even sleeping side by side. The mood is uneasy and quietly critical. The speaker doesn't sound angry so much as puzzled and a little unsettled, watching conformity feel both comforting and deadening. The meaning stays open, but that tension is what lingers.