Love

Hail, Poetry 

In the 13th chapter of St. Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, we read:

Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not love, 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, 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, it profits me nothing.

Love suffers long, and is kind; love envies not; love vaunts not itself, is not puffed up, does not behave itself unseemly, seeks not her own, is not easily provoked, thinks no evil, rejoices not in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; Bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

St. Paul says:

And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.

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