Waves forever moving, Running to and fro; Restless and impatient As they come and go.
Bringing naught with coming, Taking naught away; So like all men living; So like night and day.
Watching waves is the whole scene here. They run back and forth, never settling, never finished, and the speaker describes them as "restless and impatient," as if they were people pacing a room. But the real turn comes in the second stanza. The waves arrive with nothing and leave with nothing, and the speaker suddenly widens the lens: "So like all men living; / So like night and day."
That's the comparison the title promises. An "analogue" is a parallel, and the poem sets human life beside the sea. We rush around, driven and anxious, yet the speaker hints that the net result may be little. Nothing is brought, nothing is carried off.
The mood is quiet and a little wistful. There's no anger or despair, just calm observation, almost a shrug. The short lines and steady rhythm mimic the rolling of the tide, and the pairing of "night and day" makes this restlessness feel natural, even inevitable, like a rhythm we can't step out of.