‘Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer thought
it was hardlyworth his while
to waste much time with the old violin,
but he held it up with a smile.
“Give me a dollar, and who’ll make it two?
Only two dollars. Who’ll make it three?
Three dollars twice and that’s a good price,
but who’s got a bid for me?
The air was hot and the people just stood
as the sun was setting low.
Then from the back of the crowd a gray-haired man
came forward and picked up the bow.
He wiped the dust from the old violin,
and he tightened up the strings.
Then he played out a melody,
pure and sweet as the angels sing.
The music ended and the auctioneer,
with a voice that was quiet and low,
said “what is my bid for the old violin?”,
and he held it up with the bow.
“A thousand dollars, and who’ll make it two?
Only two thousand, who’ll make it three?”
Three thousand twice, that’s a good price,
but who’s got a bid for me?”
And the people called out, “what made the change?
We don’t understand.”
So the auctioneer stopped and said with a smile,
“’twas the touch of the master’s hand.”
Now many a man and his life out of tune
is battered and scarred with sin.
And he’s auctioned cheap to a thankless world,
much like the old violin.
But then the master comes and the foolish crowd,
they never understand
the worth of a soul or the change that is wrought
by the touch of the master’s hand.
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