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Touch Of The Master's Hand
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The Touch Of The Master's Hand(The Old Violin)Written by Myra Welch in 1921Myra Welch would say that she heard a speaker address a group of students on the power of God to bring out the best in people. She said she herself became filled with light and that “Touch of the Master’s Hand” was written in 30 minutes!.The finished poem was sent anonymously to the editor of her local church news bulletin. She felt it was a gift from God and didn’t need her name on it.Myra Brooks Welch was born in 1877 and died in 1959. While she authored many other poems, she is best known for this work.Welch's famous poem inspired other works. Contemporary Christian artist Wayne Watson recorded a song by the same name, with lyrics adapted to the music based on this poem. The song was written by John Kramp in 1974 while a freshman at Baylor University and recorded for Wayne Waston's first album Workin' In The Final Hour in 1980 and recorded 12 years later on his How Time Flies compilation project.
The Booth Brothers was initially formed in the 1950s by Ron Booth, Sr. with his brothers Charles, James, and Wallace, after they moved to Detroit. However, Ron decided to disband the group in 1963 when he joined The Toney Brothers.
In 1990, Ron's youngest son, Michael (b. October 8, 1971), decided to revive the group with his brother Ronnie II (b. June 28, 1965), and his father. They started performing and touring around Florida and recorded several albums. In 1998, Ron decided to retire and the remaining brothers started looking for a replacement. They recorded several albums with Joseph Smith, who was later replaced by Jim Brady (b. May 19, 1970). Brady remained with them until 2014, at which point he was replaced by Paul Lancaster (b. February 23, 1968).
the full poem:"Touch of the Master’s Hand," by Myra WelshT’was battered and scarred, and the auctioneerThought it scarcely worth his whileTo waste much time on the old violin,But held it up with a smile."What am I bidden, good folks," he cried,"Who’ll start the bidding for me?""A dollar, a dollar," then, two! Only two?"Two dollars, and who’ll make it three?"Three dollars, once; three dollars, twice;Going for three . . . "But no,From the room, far back, a grey haired manCame forward and picked up the bow;Then, wiping the dust from the old violin,And tightening the loose strings,He played a melody pure and sweetAs a caroling angel sings.The music ceased, and the auctioneer,With a voice that was quiet and low,Said: "What am I bid for the old violin?"And he held it up with the bow."A thousand dollars, and who’ll 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 do not quite understandWhat changed its worth?" Swift came the reply:"The touch of a master’s hand."And many a man with life out of tune,And battered and scarred with sin,Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd,Much like the old violin.A "mess of potage," a glass of wine;A game, and he travels on.He is "going" once, and "going" twice,He’s "going" and almost "gone."But the Master comes and the foolish crowdNever can quite understandThe worth of a soul and the change that’s wroughtBy the touch of the Master’s hand.
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