I wish I were the little key That locks Love's Captive in, And lets Him out to go and free A sinful 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.