To an Altar Server

To be Christ's page at the altar,
To serve Him freely there,
Where even the angels falter,
Bowed low in reverent prayer.

To touch the throne most holy,
To hand the gifis 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,
Comes 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.

God bless you, lad, forever,
And keep you in His care,
And guard you that you never
Belie the robes vou wear

For white bespeaks untainted
A heart both tried and true:
And red tells love the sainted
And holy martyrs knew

Throughout life, then, endeavor
God's graces to employ,-
And be in heart forever
A holy altar boy