1.A workman plied his clumsy spade As the sun was going down；The German king，with a cavalcade ，On his way to Berlin town.
2.Reined up his steed at the old man’s side.
“My toiling friend，”said he，“Why not cease work at eventide ，When the labourer should be free？”
3.“I do not slave，”the old man said，“And I am always free ；Though I work from the time I leave my bed Till I can hardly see.”
4.“How much，”said the king，“is thy gain in a day？”
“Eight groschen，”the man replied.
“And thou canst live on this meagre“Like a king，”he said with pride.
5.“Two groschen for me and my wife，good friend，And two for a debt I owe；Two groschen to lend，and two to spend For those who can‘t labour，you know.”
6.“Thy debt？”said the king.Said the toiler，“Yea，To my mother，with age oppressed ，Who cared for me，toiled for me，many a day，And now hath need of rest.”
7.“To whom dost lend of thy daily store？”
“To my boys-for their schooling.You see，When I am too feebleto toil any more，They will care for their mother and me.”
8.“And thy last two groschen？”the monarch said.“My sisters are old and lame；I give them two groschen for raimentand bread，All in the Father’sname.”
9.Tears welled up in the good king‘s eyes.
“Thou knowest me not，”said he；“As thou hast given me one surprise，Here is another for thee.
10.”I am thy king；give me thy hand“-And he heaped it high with gold-“When more thou needest，I command That I at once be told.
11.”For I would bless with rich reward The man who can proudly say，That eight souls he doth keep and guard On eight poor groschen a day.