Luyện nghe bài hát The Master's Hand

Writer Myra Brooks

"Twas battered and scared, and the
it scarcely worth his while
To waste time on the old violin,
But he it up with a smile.
"What am I bidden, folks," he cried,
"Who'll start for me?
A dollar, a dollar - now who"ll it two _
Two dollars, and who"ll it three?
"Three dollars once, dollars twice,
for three". . . but no!
From the room far a gray-haired man
Came and picked up the bow;
Then wiping the from the old violin,
And up the strings,
He a melody,pure and sweet,
As sweet as an sings.
The music ceased and the
With a voice that was and low,
Said: "What am I for the old violin?"
And he it up with the bow;
"A thousand dollars - and who'll it two?
Two thousand - and who'll it three?
Three once, three thousand twice
And - and gone," said he.
The people cheered, but some of cried,
"We do not quite -
What its worth?" The man replied:
"The of the masters hand."
And a man with life out of tune,
And and torn with sin,
Is auctioned cheap to a crowd.
like the old violin.
A "mess of pottage," a of wine,
A game and he on,
He's going once, and going -
He's - and almost gone!
But the comes, and the foolish crowd,
can quite understand,
The of a soul, and the change that's wrought
By the touch of the hand.