Passed to me from my father in my youth.

The ole Dog!


“Twas battered, scarred, and the auctioneer hardly thought it worth his while-
To waste his time on the old violin, but held it up with a smile-
What am I bid good people he cried, who’ll start the bidding for me-
A dollar now, a dollar, now two only two dollars, and who will make it three-
Three dollar 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 violin and tightening 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 the old violin, and he held it up with the bow-
A thousand dollar, and who will 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 don’t understand-
What changed it’s worth, swift came the rely, the touch of the master’s hand=
And many a man with life out of tune and battered and torn with sin-
Is auctioned cheap to a thoughtless crowd much like the old violin-
A mess of pottage, a glass of wine, and he travels on-
He is going once, 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’s wrought by the touch of the master’s hand!

Unknown Poet.

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