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High Hills


The Master's Touch


Soaring with the Eagles Every time that I contemplate the magnificence of God's grace, I am overwhelmed. The more I learn about His unending love and mercy, the more joy I awaken to. This poem, whose author is unknown to me, speaks of this wonderful grace with power and simplicity.


It was battered and scarred
and the auctioneer thought it scarcely worth his while
to waste much time on the Old Violin but he held it up with a smile.

"What am I bid Goodfolks?" he cried "Who'll start the bidding for me?"
It was "a dollar...a dollar...then two"...only two.
"Two dollars and who'll make it three?"
But No!...From the room far back-
a gray-haired man came forward and picked up the bow.
And wiping the dirt from that old violin..and tightening the loosened strings...
You know, He played a melody pure 'n sweet, as the carillon angels sing.

Well the music stopped, and the auctioneer in 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! Who'll make it two? Two thousand! Who'll make it Three?
It was "three thousand once"..."three thousand twice"... and "Going for three!" said he.

Well the people stared...
But some of them cried: "We do not quite understand!"
"What changed its worth?"
Swift came the reply..."It was the Touch of the Master's Hand."

Many a man with his life out of tune
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,
It's a game and He travels on.
He's going once...He's going twice...
He's going and almost gone.

But, the Master comes...and the foolish crowd
Can never quite understand
The worth of a soul
Or the change that's wrought
By the touch of the Master's Hand


Last Update: 7/16/99
Comments and feedback? Send e-mail to: habakkuk319@hockeymail.com.

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