A speaker has made camp for the night and, with no book to read, finds something simpler to listen to. The poem opens with a small admission: nothing on hand will satisfy "my red or green ear." That odd phrase suggests an ear that wants different kinds of stimulation, perhaps like ripe and unripe fruit, or like the colors of a signal light. Whatever the exact meaning, the speaker's appetite for words goes unfed.
Instead of feeling deprived, the speaker turns to the moment itself: "the present is my tune / for the night." The sounds around the tent become the music. The last lines call the tent a "new lodging" and a "fine" one, which gives the poem a tone of quiet contentment, even a little humor in treating a tent like a proper home. The mood is relaxed and attentive. The speaker has less than usual and seems perfectly happy about it.