The Touch of the Master's Hand
'Twas battered and scarred,
and the auctioneer
Thought it scarcely worth his while
To waste such
time on the old violin,
But he held it up with a smile.
I bid, good folks?" he cried.
"Who'll start the bidding for me?
dollar, a dollar ~ now two, only two ~
Two dollars, and who'll make it
"Three dollars once, three dollars twice,
three!" ~ but no!
From the room far back a gray-haired man
forward and picked up the bow.
Then, wiping the dust from the old
And tightening up all the strings,
He played a melody pure
As sweet as an angel sings.
The music ceased, and the
With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said, "What am I
bid for the old violin?"
And he held it up with the bow.
thousand dollars ~ and who'll make it two?
Two thousand ~ and who'll
make it three?
Three thousand once and three thousand twice ~
going and gone!" said he.
The people cheered, but some of them
"We do not quite understand ~
What changed its worth?" The
"The touch of the master's hand!"
And many a man
with life out of tune,
And battered and torn with sin,
cheap to a thoughtless crowd,
Much like the old violin.
of pottage, a glass of wine,
A game ~ and he travels on.
once, and going twice,
He's going and almost gone!
And the foolish crowd
Never can quite
The worth of a soul
And the change that's wrought
the touch of the Master's hand.