paroles de chanson Touch of the Master's Hand - Natalie MacMaster
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
cried,
"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;
threedollars
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
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'll
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
quite
understand
what
changed
its
worth."
Swift
came
the
reply:
"The
touch
of
a
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
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.
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