Luyện nghe bài hát The Master's Hand

Writer Brooks Welch

"Twas and scared, and the auctioneer
Thought it scarcely worth his
To waste much 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 - now who"ll make it two _
Two dollars, and who"ll it three?
"Three dollars once, three twice,
for three". . . but no!
From the room far a gray-haired man
Came forward and picked up the
Then wiping the 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 that was and low,
"What am I bidden for the old violin?"
And he held it up with the
"A dollars - and who'll make it two?
Two - and who'll make it three?
Three thousand once, three twice
And - and gone," said he.
The people cheered, but some of cried,
"We do not quite -
changed its worth?" The man replied:
"The of the masters hand."
And many a man with out of tune,
And and torn with sin,
Is cheap to a thoughtless crowd.
Much the old violin.
A "mess of pottage," a of wine,
A and he travels on,
He's once, and going twice -
He's - and almost gone!
But the comes, and the foolish crowd,
can quite understand,
The worth of a soul, and the that's wrought
By the of the MASTER'S hand.