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And though to feed the poor I freely give
Each part of wordly goods that may be mine,
And to the flames commit me while I live,
And every hope and prospect here resign,
Yet, without charity, all this is nought,—
All emptiness, and with no profit wrought.
Each part of wordly goods that may be mine,
And to the flames commit me while I live,
And every hope and prospect here resign,
Yet, without charity, all this is nought,—
All emptiness, and with no profit wrought.
Charity long suffereth and is kind,
It envieth not,—it vaunteth not itself,—
Is not puffed up,—and ne'er behaves unkind,—
Nor compromises wickedness for pelf:
Is slow to anger,—slow to harbour sin,
Sees nought of evil out—is pure within.
It envieth not,—it vaunteth not itself,—
Is not puffed up,—and ne'er behaves unkind,—
Nor compromises wickedness for pelf:
Is slow to anger,—slow to harbour sin,
Sees nought of evil out—is pure within.
In no downfall can charity rejoice;
It beareth all things patiently and well;
Truth dwells with music in her heavenly voice;
She doth of hope through long endurance tell;
Is ever willing to assist a friend;
Endureth all things—hoping to the end.
It beareth all things patiently and well;
Truth dwells with music in her heavenly voice;
She doth of hope through long endurance tell;
Is ever willing to assist a friend;
Endureth all things—hoping to the end.
WOLVERHAMPTON:
J. BRIDGEN, PRINTER, DARLINGTON STREET.
