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Dreams and Images

by Joyce Kilmer

186 of 214 · Contents · Download EPUB

A Child’s Wish

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 gleam 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.

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