Shakespeare’s speaker looks at his own aging and knows that death is approaching. He describes himself as a tree in late autumn, with just a few yellow leaves left trembling on bare branches, like the empty arches of a ruined church where birds once sang. Then he shifts to the image of twilight fading into dark night — night being death’s twin, sealing everything into silence. Finally, he compares himself to a fire dying out, its last glow lying on the ashes of what once blazed. The mood is quiet and mournful, but not despairing. The real turning point comes in the final couplet: the speaker says that seeing his decline makes the beloved’s love even stronger. Because they know their time together is short, they love more deeply — holding on precisely because they must soon let go.
Sonnet 73: That time of year thou mayst in me behold — Summary
That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou see'st the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west; Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire, That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, As the death-bed, whereon it must expire, Consum'd with that which it was nourish'd by. This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong, To love that well, which thou must leave ere long.