Scribbles found in a margin

Between the light of purposed action
   and the darkness of the deed,
a shadow falls. All life is faction:
      man and master, fat and lean,
   mother’s love and daughter’s need,
ungrateful as the worm affection
      bred. A shadow falls between
   a poet’s lips and ears that heed.

But, O my love, I would be constant
   if no shadow lay on me.
Shall the sun grow cold and distant?
      Not until a shadow falls
   from earth to sky, and night must be.
Between the endless and the instant,
      earthly hearts build high their walls,
   and I, enslaved, must wander free.

By fickle lust my troth is riven:
   Concupiscence is evergreen.
Between the gates of earth and heaven,
      all my passions go astray.
   The yeast, once needful, now obscene,
devours the loaf till all is leaven.
      I ask you still to share my day
   until a shadow falls between.

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