When service should in my old limbs lie lame, And unregarded age in corners thrown. Take that; and He that doth the ravens feed, Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, Be comfort to my age ! Here is the gold : All this I give you. Let me be your servant...
The Plays of Shakspeare: Printed from the Text of Samuel Johnson, George ... - Pagina 29
de William Shakespeare - 1807
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