Luyện nghe bài hát The Master's Hand

Writer Myra Welch

"Twas and scared, and the auctioneer
Thought it scarcely worth his
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, three twice,
for three". . . but no!
From the room far back a man
Came forward and picked up the
wiping the dust from the old violin,
And up the strings,
He a melody,pure and sweet,
As as an angel sings.
The ceased and the auctioneer
With a voice was quiet and low,
Said: "What am I for the old violin?"
And he held it up the bow;
"A thousand dollars - and make it two?
Two - and who'll make it three?
Three thousand once, three thousand
And going - and gone," he.
The people cheered, but of them cried,
"We do not quite -
What its worth?" The man replied:
"The touch of the hand."
And a man with life out of tune,
And battered and torn 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 once, and going twice -
going - and almost gone!
But the MASTER comes, and the crowd,
can quite understand,
The of a soul, and the change that's wrought
By the touch of the hand.