Though we could speak with angel tongues
1
Though we could speak with angel tongues,Or with prophetic skillSurvey the future at a glanceAnd read events at will;Had we a faith in God so strongAs mountains to remove,Yet all were fruitless, all in vain,If not inspired by love.
2
And though our goods to feed the poorOur liberal hands bestow,Or yield our bodies to the flamesOur ardent zeal to show;Our deeds, though like the noon-day sun,Of no avail would prove,No sacrifice a merit claimsThat is not crowned by love.
3
Love suffers long and envies not,Endures, forbears, believes,All things it hopes, all things forgives,It trusts but ne'er deceives;And now abide to every soulThese graces from above,—Faith, hope, and love,—immortal three,—But chief of all is love.