Lodging reads like a few quick glimpses from someone passing through a place, maybe a night at an inn, maybe a stretch of life. The speaker leaves the key in the lock and the hired horse out in the field, as if they've given up control and are willing to let things be. Nothing is tightly held or guarded here.
Then the scene opens up. Day and night "come anew to sing," a lovely image of time turning over and the world carrying on. The speaker turns to a friend and asks them to stay and lodge, which gives the poem a warm, almost pleading tone.
The ending is the surprise. The speaker carries sand to bed "in one tear," which suggests the grains of a long journey, or of passing time, gathered into a single moment of grief or tenderness. The mood is quiet, wistful, and open-handed: a loose, gentle sense of impermanence, with a small ache underneath.