THOUGH I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not love in my heart, I am become as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal.
And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge;
and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not love in my heart, I am nothing.
And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not love in my heart, I gain nothing.
Love is long-suffering and kind;
love does not envy;
love does not make a vain display of itself, and does not boast,
Does not behave itself unseemly, seeks not its own, is not easily provoked, thinks no evil;
Rejoices not over iniquity, but rejoices in the truth;
Bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
Love never fails;
but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail;
whether there be tongues, they shall cease;
whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away.
For we know in part and we prophesy in part.
But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is imperfect shall come to an end.
When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child;
but when I became a man, I put away childish things.
For now we see through a mirror, darkly;
but then face to face.
Now I know in part;
but then shall I know even as also I am known.
And now abide faith, hope, love, these three;
but the greatest of these is love.