'Twas battered and scarred,

And the auctioneer thought

"Why, it's scarcely worth my while

To waste much time on this old violin,"

But he held it up with a smile.

"What am I bid, good folks," he cried

"A dollar? Then two? Only two?

Two dollars! Who will make it three?

Three dollars, it goes home with you.

Three dollars! Going once, going 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 the old loose strings,

He played a melody pure and sweet

As caroling 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?"

And he held it up with the bow.

"A thousand dollars! And who'll make it two?

Two thousand! And who will make it three?

Three thousand once, three thousand twice

And going, and gone", said he.

The people cheered! But, some of them cried,

"We do not understand!

What changed its worth?", and swift came the reply

"The touch of a Master's hand."

And many a man with his life out of tune

And battered and scarred with sin

Is auctioned cheep to the thoughtless crowd

Much like the old violin.

A mess of pottage, a glass of wine,

A game, and he travels on

He is going once, and going twice,

He's going, and almost gone.

But the Master comes, and the foolish crowd

Never can quite understand

The worth of a soul and the change that's wrought

By the touch of the Master's hand.

~~Author Unknown~~

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