Letras

Waye not his cribb, his wooden dish,
Nor beastes that by him feede;
Waye not his mother’s poor attire,
Nor Josephe’s simple weede.
The stable is a Prince’s courte,
The cribb his chaire of State;
The beastes are parcell of his pomp,
The wooden dish his plate.
Written by: Stephen Paulus
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