"Thou'rt wrong, my friend," cried Old King Hal
"Thou'rt wrong as wrong can be;
For could my heart be light as thine
I'd gladly change with thee.
And tell me now what makes thee sing
With voice so loud and free,
While I am sad though I'm the King,
Beside the river Dee!"
The Miller smil'd and doff'd his cap,
"I earn my bread," quoth he;