A Favorite Poem

At our Prayer Breakfast this morning, I shared one of my favorite poems.
I hadn’t read or heard it in quite awhile, but it came to mind recently, so I searched and found it.
It is one which I think should be performed. Here it is for your enjoyment!

The Touch Of The Master’s Hand
B. Welch


Twas battered and scarred,
and the auctioneer
thought it scarcely
worth his while
To waste much time on
the old violin,
But held it up with
a smile.
"What am I bidden,
good folks," he
"Who’ll start the
bidding for me?
A dollar, a dollar,
then, 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 grey-haired man
Came forward and picked
up the bow;
Then, wiping the dust
from the old violin,
And tightening the loose
He played a melody pure
and sweet
As a caroling angel

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’ll make it three?
"Three thousand,
once; three thousand,
And going and gone."said

The people cheered,
but some of them cried,
"We do not quite
understand, what changed
its worth?"
Swift came the reply:
"The Touch Of The
Master’s Hand."

And many a man with
life out of tune,
And battered and scarred
with sin,
Is auctioned cheap to
the thoughtless crowd,
Much like the old violin.
A ‘mess of potage,’
a glass of wine;
A game – and he travels
He is ‘going’ once,
and ‘going’ twice,
He’s ‘going’ and almost
But the Master comes
and the foolish crowd
Never can quite understand
The worth of a soul
and the change that’s
By the touch of the
Master’s Hand.