'Twas battered and scarred and the auctioneer Thought it scarcely worth his while To waste much time on the old violin, But he held it up with a smile.
"What am I bid, good folk?" he cried. "Who'll start the bidding for me? A dollar, a dollar ... now two ... only two ... Two dollars, and 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 and picked up the bow.
Then wiping the dust from the old violin And tightening up the strings, He played a melody pure and sweet, As sweet as an angel sings.
The music ceased, and the auctioneer, With a voice that was quiet and low, Said, "What am I bid for the old violin?" As he held it up with the bow.
"A thousand dollars ... and who'll make it two? Two...two thousand, and who'll make it three? Three thousand once and three thousand twice ... Three thousand and gone!" said he.
The people cheered, but some exclaimed "We do not quite understand ... What changed it's worth?" and the answer came: " 'Twas the touch of the master's hand."
And many a man with soul out of tune And battered and scarred by sin Is auctioned cheap by the thoughtless crowd Just like the old violin.
But the Master comes, and the foolish crowd Never can quite understand The worth of a soul, and the change that is wrought By the touch of the master's hand.
O Master! I am the tuneless one Lay, lay Thy hand on me, Transform me now, put a song in my heart Of melody, Lord, to Thee!
~*~
The Master's Hand
If ever your life is out of tune, And no music soothes the soul, Seek out The Master whose gentle touch Will bless you and make you whole.
Like an old violin, weathered and worn A life may not be so grand, But may be uplifted, transformed, and renewed By the touch of The Master's Hand.
~*~
"What am I bid, good folk?" he cried. "Who'll start the bidding for me? A dollar, a dollar ... now two ... only two ... Two dollars, and 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 and picked up the bow.
Then wiping the dust from the old violin And tightening up the strings, He played a melody pure and sweet, As sweet as an angel sings.
The music ceased, and the auctioneer, With a voice that was quiet and low, Said, "What am I bid for the old violin?" As he held it up with the bow.
"A thousand dollars ... and who'll make it two? Two...two thousand, and who'll make it three? Three thousand once and three thousand twice ... Three thousand and gone!" said he.
The people cheered, but some exclaimed "We do not quite understand ... What changed it's worth?" and the answer came: " 'Twas the touch of the master's hand."
And many a man with soul out of tune And battered and scarred by sin Is auctioned cheap by the thoughtless crowd Just like the old violin.
But the Master comes, and the foolish crowd Never can quite understand The worth of a soul, and the change that is wrought By the touch of the master's hand.
O Master! I am the tuneless one Lay, lay Thy hand on me, Transform me now, put a song in my heart Of melody, Lord, to Thee!
~*~
The Master's Hand
If ever your life is out of tune, And no music soothes the soul, Seek out The Master whose gentle touch Will bless you and make you whole.
Like an old violin, weathered and worn A life may not be so grand, But may be uplifted, transformed, and renewed By the touch of The Master's Hand.
~*~
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