sassyalex

The Touch of the Master's Hand:

Twas battered & scarred, and the auctioneer
Thought it scarcely worth his while
To waste much time on the old violin,
But held it up with a smile.
What am I bid, good folks, he cried
Who'll start the bidding for me?
A dollar, a dollar, then two, only two?
Two dollars & who'll make it three?
Three dollars once, three dollars twice
Going for three - But...no,
From the room far back a gray-haired man
Came forward & picked up the bow
Then wiping the dust from the old violin
And tightening the loose strings
He played a melody pure & sweet
As a caroling angel sings.
The music ceased and the auctioneer
With a voice that was quiet & low
Said, "What am I bid for the old violin"
And he held it up with the bow
A thousand dollars & who'll make it two?
Two thousand & who'll make it three?
Three thousand once, three thousand twice
And going & gone said he.
The people cheered but some of them cried
We do not quite understand,
What changed it's worth?  Swift came the reply ..
The touch of the Master's hand.
And many a slave, with life out of tune
And battered and scarred within
Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd
Much like the old violin
A mess of pottage, a glass of wine
A game, and she travels on
She is going once, and going twice
She's going & almost gone
But....the Master comes and the foolish crowd
Never can quite understand
The worth of her soul & the change that's wrought
By the touch of the Master's hand.