The poem speaks to a "you" who is shaped, softened, or hardened by delight. The word "tempered" works two ways, like metal strengthened by fire and like a feeling made milder. Each stanza repeats the phrase and then adds a strange, dreamlike list of what this person kept, carried, or avoided: saddest oceans, proudest streams, sand on a necklace, cream on the lips. The images don't fit together logically, which gives the poem a hazy, half-remembered feel.
Underneath the oddness there seems to be a mix of admiration and sadness. The person appears to be loved, even consumed, by others, yet something stays out of reach. "Taut strings pulled on you forever" suggests pressure or control, and the last stanza turns defensive: bars around a fortress, and a wound that "strong men" can never kiss. The mood is tender but guarded, as if delight protects the person and also keeps them lonely. The poem leaves the exact story unclear, so readers have to feel their way through it.