BOQ74 THE TOUCH OF THE MASTERÕ S HAND, Dee Dee
16˝W x 16˝H (X05-7104-50)
Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer thought it scarcely worth his while to 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 gray-haired man came 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 sweet as 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 understand what 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 crowd never can quite understand the worth of a soul and the change that’s wrought by the touch of the Master’s hand.
BOQ75 HOW GREAT THOU ART, Dee Dee 16˝W x 16˝H
(X05-7104-50)
O Lord my God, When I in awesome wonder, consider all the worlds Thy Hands have made; I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder, Thy power throughout the universe displayed.
Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee, How great Thou art, How great Thou art! Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee, How great Thou art, How great Thou art!
When through the woods, and forest glades I wander, and hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees. When I look down, from lofty mountain grandeur and see the brook, and feel the gentle breeze.
And when I think, that God, His Son not sparing; sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in; that on the Cross, my burden gladly bearing, He bled and died to take away my sin.
When Christ shall come, with shout of acclamation, and take me home, what joy shall fill my heart. Then I shall bow, in humble adoration, and then proclaim: “My God, how great Thou art!”
Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee, How great Thou art, How great Thou art! Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee, How great Thou art, How great Thou art!
BOQ76 AMAZING GRACE, Dee Dee 20˝W x 16˝H
(X00-0304-50)
BOQ77 WE ARE THE CLAY, Dee Dee O Lord, You are our Father. We are the clay, You are the potter; we are all the work of Your hand. Isaiah 64:8 12˝W x 16˝H
(X05-5104-50) 1.800.828.5260 55
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