The Touch Of a Masters Hand'twas battered and scarred and the auctioner
though it scarely worth his while
To waste much time on the old violin, but he held it up with a smile.
What am I bid for this good folks, he cried.
Who'll start the bidding for me? A pound, a pound, then two. Only two.
Three pounds, once; three pounds twice. Going for three....... but no.
From the room far back, a grey-haired man came forward and picked up the bow;
Then wiping the dust from the old violin and tightning the loosened strings.
He played a melody pure and sweet.... as a carolling angel sings.
The the music ceased, and the auctioneer, with a voice that was quiet and low,
Said, What am I bid for this old violin? And held it up with the bow.
A thousand pounds; who'll make it two? Two thousand pounds, who'll make it three?
Three thousand once, Three thousand twice, And going and gone said he.
The people cheered, but one of them cried.
'We dont understand,
What changed its worth, made it so grand?'
Back came the reply,
'The touch of a master's hand.'
And many a child who comes to you
As a child who only exists
Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd
Like the old violin you saw.
Robbed of his childhood, nobody cares.
A true self that nobody knows
He is going once and going twice.
Without you he is almost gone.
So when you come forward, you folk in the street.
Who never can quite understand.
Its the worth of a soul and the change that is wrought,
By the touch of the Master's Hand.
(Sorry I dont know who the author is)
