1Though I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have no love, I am become a clanging brass, or a clashing cymbal. 2Though I have the gift of prophecy and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. 3And though I sell all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, but have not love, it avails me nothing.¶ 4Love suffers long and is kind; love envies not; love makes no parade, is not puffed up, 5is not rude, nor selfish, nor easily provoked. Love bears no malice, never rejoices over wrong-doing, 6but rejoices when the truth rejoices. 7It knows how to be silent, it is trustful, hopeful, patient, enduring.¶ 8Love never fails; but though there are prophecies, they will fail; though there are tongues, they will cease; though there is knowledge, it will be superseded. 9For our knowing is imperfect, and our prophesying is imperfect; 10but when the perfect is come, then the perfect will be done away. 11When I was a child I spoke like a child, felt like a child, thought like a child; now that I am become a man, I have done with childish things. 12For now we see as in a mirror, and are baffled, but then face to face; now I know in fragments, but then shall I understand even as I also have been understood. 13Faith, Hope, Love endure - these three; but the greatest of these is Love.¶