The poem opens with a question that sounds like a sensible, everyday argument. Who would oppose banning knives used to stab people, or litter caught in a hedge? The answer is obvious, and that's the point. "Common sense" gets used to wave through the things nobody could disagree with, and the speaker seems to lean on that agreement with a slight, tired irony. Putting stabbing and rubbish in the same breath is jarring, as if violence and mess were equal problems.
Then the tone shifts. "God knows we are sad" is a plain, almost weary admission. The image that follows, an infinite love carried into "the country of distraction," suggests that our capacity for love is huge, yet we haul it into a place where we can't pay attention. The mood is quiet and regretful. Easy agreement about small things seems to cover a deeper grief, and the poem lets that sadness show without explaining it.