Two short lines are enough to set a whole scene: it is one in the morning, and someone is looking at the road that leads out of town. Nothing moves. The speaker doesn't tell us where they are going or why, but the title, "Vagrant," suggests a person with no fixed place, someone for whom a late-night road is more familiar than a home.
The key image is the comparison of the road to "a blind god." It's a strange and powerful phrase. A god implies something huge and ancient, while blindness suggests it can't see us, or doesn't care that we're there. The road becomes both vast and indifferent, deep and still, like something you could fall into. The speaker seems to feel awe mixed with unease, and perhaps a little loneliness, though the poem judges nothing. The mood is hushed and solemn. The short lines and the lack of any action leave us standing quietly at the edge of town, facing the dark.