|
|
It was battered and scarred so the young auctioneer
Thought it scarcely worth his while,
To waste much time on the old violin
And held it up with a smile,
"What am I bid, good folks?" he cried
"Who will start the bidding for me?"
"A dollar, a dollar, now two, only two?"
"And who will make it three?"
"Three dollars once, three dollars twice --
Going for three --
"BUT WAIT"
From the back of the room came a silver-haired man,
Who picked up the bow and dusted the old violin.
He straightened the strings
And played a melody so sweet,
Sweet and pure like an Angel sings.
When the music ceased, said the young auctioneer,
With a voice that was humble and low;
NOW "what am I bid for the old violin?"
And he held it up with the bow.
"A thousand dollars, two thousand now
And who'll make it three?"
"Three thousand, once, three thousand twice
Gone for three thousand!" said he.
Most people cheered and yet some cried
and said "We do not quite understand"
What was it that changed the violin's worth?"
The silver-haired man, said with a smile,
"Many women and men, with lives out of tune
And who are battered and torn with sin,
Are auctioned cheap to a thoughtless crowd,
Much like this old violin."
A mess of porridge, a glass of wine,
A game and they travel on.
They are going once, going twice and almost gone.
"BUT WAIT!"
Now "The Master" comes and the foolish crowd,
May never quite understand, the worth of your soul
Or the changes brought, by the
"Touch Of The Master's Hand"
Author Unknown
| |
|
