I Wish I Were the Little Key

I happened upon this poem when I was browsing through old Eucharistic hymns and prayer cards. It seems like something that would appeal to certain of you - I know I certainly enjoyed it.

I wish I were the little key

That locks Love's captive in

And who lets Him out to go and free

A stricken heart from sin.

I wish I were the little bell

That tinkles for the Host,

When God comes down each day to dwell

With hearts He loves the most.

I wish I were the chalice fair

That holds the Blood of Love

When every flash lights holy prayer

Upon its way above.

I wish I were the little flower

So near the Host's sweet face,

Or like the light that half an hour

Burns on the shrine of grace.

I wish I were the altar, where,

As on His Mother's Breast,

Christ nestles, like a child , fore'er

In Eucharistic rest.

But oh, my God, I wish the most

That my poor heart may be

A home all holy for each Host

That comes in love to me.