As the sun was going down;
The German King, with acavalcade,
On his way to Berlin town,
Reined up his steed at the old man's sede.
"My toiling friend," said he,
"Why not cease work at eventide
When laborer should be free?"
"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."
"How much," said the King, "is the grain in a day?"
"Eight groschens," the man replied.
"And thou canst live on this meager pay?"
"Like a king," he said with pride.
"Two groschens for me and my wife, good friend,
And two for a debt I own;
Two groschens to lend and two to spend,
For those who can't labor, you."
"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."
"To whom dost lend thy daily store?"
"To my boys - for their shooling; you see,
When I am too feeble to toil any more,
They will care for their mother and me."
" And thy last two groschens?" the monarch said.
"My sisters are old and lame;
I give them two groschens for rainment and bread,
All in the Father's name."
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."
"I am the king; give me thy hand"-
And he heaped it high with gold.
When more thou needest, I command
That I at once be told.
"For I would bless with rich reward
The man who can proudly say
That eight souls he doth keep and guard
On eight poor groschens a day."