Re: worship service; "Master's Hand"
Ed Darrell (EDarr1776@AOL.COM)
Tue, 20 Aug 1996 23:46:46 -0400
In a message dated 96-08-20 11:28:36 EDT, mcgarrah@FLINET.COM (Craig
>Although it is only a part of a service, reading the following poem would
>make a nice message. I do not know who wrote it, but I like it.
It was written by Myra Brooks Welch. HERE IT IS AS SHE SET IT DOWN:
The Touch of the Master's Hand
'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; three dollars 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 a 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 is wrought
By the touch of the Master's hand.
-- Myra Brooks Welch
I found the poem in a collection copyrighted 1936 by Doubleday, "The Best
Loved Poems of the American People." It's loaded with other great poems.
Myra Brooks Welch is probably dead; the copyright is probably expired. But
please try to keep her name attached to the poem when you pass it along, as a
tribute and honor to poets everywhere forever.
Ed Darrell, Duncanville, Texas
Terry Howerton Sakima Group, Inc. SCOUTER Magazine Kansas City