My lass, when God <br />to suffer sent me, <br />no gifts he gave, <br />but only lent me <br />for gold, my breath, <br />for silver, labour; <br />the sky as a friend, <br />the grass as neighbour. <br /> <br />The Vineyard called <br />for workers many; <br />at eve I took <br />God's punctual penny; <br />Because I bowed <br />content, I fancy, <br />He gave me you <br />for wages, Nancy!<br /><br />Norman Rowland Gale<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/wages-3/
