Here you will find the Poem Wages of poet Norman Rowland Gale
My lass, when God to suffer sent me, no gifts he gave, but only lent me for gold, my breath, for silver, labour; the sky as a friend, the grass as neighbour. The Vineyard called for workers many; at eve I took God's punctual penny; Because I bowed content, I fancy, He gave me you for wages, Nancy!
