The Altar Boy

To be Christ’s page at the Altar,
To serve Him freely there,
Where even the Angels falter,
Bowed low in reverend prayer.
To touch the throne most holy,
To hand the gifts for the feast.
To see Him meekly, lowly,
Descend at the Word of the Priest.
To hear man’s poor petition.
To sound the silver bell
When He in sweet submission.
Come down with us to dwell.
No grander mission surely,
Could Saints or men enjoy;
No heart should love more purely than yours,
My Altar Boy.