Wages.

Preposterous is that order, when we run
To ask our wages ere our work be done.

In this misfortune kings do most excel,
To hear the worst from men when they do well.

Give unto all, lest he, whom thou deni'st,
May chance to be no other man but Christ.

Heaven is not given for our good works here;
Yet it is given to the labourer.

A long life's-day I've taken pains
For very little, or no gains;
The evening's come, here now I'll stop,
And work no more, but shut up shop.

In vain our labours are whatsoe'er they be,
Unless God gives the benedicite.