Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer thought is scarcely  worth his while, 
To waste much time on the old violin, but he held it up with a smile.
"What am I bidden, Good Folks? he cried---"Who'll start bidding for me?"
A dollar, a dollar---now who'll make it two?---two dollars who will 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 up all the strings, 
he played a melody pure and sweet, as sweet as an angel sings. 
The music ceased and the auctioneer, with a voice that was quite and low, said: 
"What am I bid for this old violin?" And he held it up with a bow. 
"A thousand dollars, who'll give me 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 understand--
-What changed its worth?" 
The man replied, "The touch of the Master's hand."  
And many a man with his life out of tune, and battered and worn with sin, 
is auctioned cheap to a thoughtless crowd, much like the old violin. 
" A mess of pottage," a "glass of wine," a "game" and he travels on. 
He's going once, and going twice---He's going---and almost gone! 
But the Master comes, and the foolish crowd never quite understand, 
the worth of a soul and the change that's wrought, by the touch of the Master's hand.