THE OLD VIOLIN-POEM FROM UNKNOWN POET

Passed to me from my father in my youth.

The ole Dog!

“THE OLD VIOLIN”

“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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