। ॥ ३७ ॥
In plain words
All that a human birth yields, here, is this: service at your feet, eternal Lord, you who fill everything. Sāmba, Sadāśiva, Śambhu, Śaṅkara — your two feet are my refuge.
Close to the Sanskrit
The fruit here of birth by way of human status is service to your feet, O eternal Lord, O all-pervading one. O Sāmba, O Sadāśiva, O Śambhu, O Śaṅkara — your pair of feet is refuge for me.