And, in the awful trance of death,
A stranger’s name be on my tongue.
This is sufficiently gruesome. However he finally comes to the conclusion (although it seems dragged in to save a very difficult situation) that his love for his future bride may become more satisfactory to him:
For, as the dawning sweet and fast
Through all the heaven spreads and flows,
Within life’s discord rude and vast
Love’s subtle music grows and grows.
My love, pale blossom of the snow,
Has pierced earth, wet with wintry showers—
O may it drink the sun, and blow,