The poem is built from scraps of official language, the kind of phrases you might find in meeting minutes: "public good hindered," "a great deal of business," "the board would not force." Nothing is explained, so the reader has to piece together the situation. It sounds like a board deciding against something that would have improved people's lives, perhaps by making them more comfortable or giving them access to open air, because it would interfere with business.
The final lines are the sharpest. "So much ease" and "so much fresh air" are simple, human things, and they sit awkwardly beside the cold wording that came before. The board "would not force" them on anyone, as if refusing were a polite, neutral choice.
The title is clearly ironic. The speaker seems quietly angry rather than loud about it. The mood is dry and chilly, and the restraint makes the decision feel more troubling. Judging by the language, the poem may be built from an existing document, though the text alone doesn't confirm this.