Touch Of The Master’s Hand

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Well it was battered and scarred
And the auctioneer felt it was hardly worth his while
To waste much time on the old violin but he held it up with a smile
He said it sure ain’t much but its all we’ve got left, I guess we ought to sell it too
Oh now, who’ll start the bid on this old violin? Just one more and we’ll be through

And then he cried, One give me one dollar: who’ll make it two? Only two dollars
Who’ll make it three? Three dollars twice now that’s a good price;
Who’s gonna bid for me?
Raise up your hand now don’t wait any longer, the auction’s about to end
Who’s got four, just one dollar more, to bid on this old violin?

Well the air was hot and the people stood around as the sun was setting low
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
And then he played out a melody pure and sweet, sweeter than the Angels sing
And then the music stopped and the auctioneer with a voice that was quiet and low
He said now what am I bid for this old violin and he held it up with a bow.

Then he cried out One give me one thousand; who’ll make it two, only two thousand
Who’ll make it three? Three thousand twice you know that’s a good price
Come on who’s gonna bid for me?
And the people cried out, What made the change? We don’t understand.
Then the auctioneer stopped and said with a smile, It was the touch of the Master’s Hand.

You know there’s many a man with his life out of tune
Battered and scarred with sin
And he’s auctioned cheap to a thankless world much like that old violin,
But then the Master comes and the old foolish crowd, they never understand
The worth of a soul and the change that is wrought,
Just by one touch of the Master’s Hand

Then he cried out, One give me one thousand; who’ll make it two? Only two thousand
Who’ll make it three? Three thousand twice, you know that’s a good price
Come on, who’s gonna bid for me?
And the people cried out, What made the change? We don’t understand.
Then the auctioneer stopped and said with a smile,
It was the touch. It was the touch of the Master’s Hand.

Written by: Myra ‘Brooks’ Welch; John Kramp Published by: New Spring Publishing

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