[:nh] [:ra 175]
The Touch of the Master's Hand.

[:nb]
It was battered and scarred,
And the auctioneer thought it 
Hardly worth his while 
To waste his time on the old violin, 
But he held it up with a smile. 

[:np] [:dv as 150]
"What am I bid, good people",
[:nb] [:ra 195]
he cried,
[:np]
"Who starts the bidding for me?"

[:dv as 250] [:ra 215]
"One dollar, one dollar, Do I hear two?" 
"Two dollars, who makes it three?" 
"Three dollars once, three dollars twice, going for three", 

[:nb] [:dv] [:ra 200]
But, No, 
From the room far back a grey haired man 
Came forward
[:pa 200]
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 the angel sings. 

[:pa 200]
The music ceased and the auctioneer 
With a voice that was quiet and low, 
Said
[:np] [:dv hs 110 as 250 br 30]
"What now am I bid for this old violin?" 
[:nb]
As he held it aloft with its' bow. 
[:np] [:dv as 300] [:ra 215]
"One thousand, one thousand, Do I hear two?" 
"Two thousand, Who makes it three?" 
"Three thousand once, three thousand twice, 
Going and gone",
[:nb] [:dv] [:ra 200]
said he. 

The audience cheered, 
[:pa 200]
But some of them cried, 
[:nu] [:dv as 120 hs 105]
"We just don't understand." 
"What changed its' worth?" 
[:nb]
Swift came the reply. 
[:np] [:dv as 350]
"The Touch of the Masters Hand."

[:nb]
And many a man with life out of tune, 
and battered and scarred with sin,
Is auctioned cheap to a thoughtless crowd 
Much like that old violin. 
A mess of pottage, a glass of wine, 
A game and he travels on. 
He is going once, he is going twice, 
He is going and almost gone. 
[:dv as 250]
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.