The speaker is worn out by the lies that surround war, and the poem suggests they only multiply, "growing every day." Rather than answering with a protest or an argument, the speaker turns inward and admits to a restlessness, an unquiet that comes and goes "like the sea." It is not a calm feeling, but it is a natural one, something the speaker can't quite control.
The moon then enters, and the speaker calls its glory "deadened." Judging by the imagery, the moon may stand for something distant and cold, perhaps the way war is made to look noble from far away. The last lines turn suspicious: the speaker refuses to think the moon "safe / out of my sight." That sounds like a person who has learned not to trust anything that shines too easily. The mood is tense, tired, and watchful, a quiet kind of distrust rather than loud anger.