But Now the Days Grow Short....

("That Time of Year", Shakespeare)

This poor speaker has reached/is nearing "the autumn of the year", meaning they are growing old. They certainly lack the positive attitude of Frank Sinatra:

But now the days grow short, I'm in the autumn of the year. And now I think of my life as vintage wine from fine old kegs from the brim to the dregs, and it poured sweet and clear; it was a very good year" ("It was a Very Good Year").

Rather this speaker seems to be fearing the "end of autumn" as much as a night terror. This is displayed through the negative imagery such as the "bare ruined choirs" and "black night" and "deathbed whereon it must expire". The end is in wight for this speaker, and rather than joyfully reflect on their life, they desire to blindly turn away. This speaker wants to look away from the past and future and desires to be nourished and consumed by present love. The tone is urgent and reflects the strength of love through the toils of time. This fear feeds into the strength of love.