The Touch of the Master's Hand
Source unknown
Twas battered and scarred and the auctioneerThought it scarcely worth his while
To waste much time on the old violin
"What am I bidden, good folks," he cried,"Who'll start the bidding for me?
A dollar, a dollar then two! Only two?
Three dollars once. Three dollars twice.Going for three&md;But no
From the room, far back, a gray haired man
Then wiping the dust from the old violinAnd tightening the loosened strings
He played a melody pure and sweet
The music ceased, and the auctioneerWith a voice that was quiet and low
Said, "What am I bid for the old violin?"
A thousand dollars, and who'll make it two.Two thousand and who'll make it three.
Three thousand once&md;three thousand twice
The people cheered but some of them criedWe do not quite understand.
What changed its worth? Swift came the reply
And many a man with life out of tuneAnd battered and scarred with sin.
Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd
A mess of pottage, a glass of wine,A game&md;he travels on.
He's "going" once, and "going" twice
But the Master comes and the foolish crowdNever can quite understand
The worth of a soul and change that's wrought