The speaker uses getting dressed as a way of talking about facing the world. In the first stanza, clothing is protection from the sun, and the speaker then heads out to listen to a gale, as if willingly stepping into something wild and loud. The second stanza turns more personal and a little wry. The speaker admits to publishing lies, which could mean the stretching of truth that any writing involves, yet hopes only to be "just a little conceited." It's a funny, humble wish: not too proud, but not invisible either.
The last stanza brings the poem to its quietest and biggest idea. Now the speaker dresses "for the dust," which suggests death, and the grave becomes "that great garden of a bed." The image is oddly gentle, making dying feel like rest and something growing. The mood is calm, self-aware, and lightly humorous, with a steady acceptance running underneath. Each stanza moves from daily weather toward the final one.