| If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels
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| But have not love
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| I am only a resounding gong or clanging cymbal
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| And if I have the gift of prophesy
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| And can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge
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| And if I have a faith that can move the mountains
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| But have not love
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| I am nothing
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| If I give all I possess to the poor
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| And surrender my body to the flames
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| But have not love
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| I gain nothing
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| Love is patient
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| Love is kind
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| It does not envy
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| Does not boast
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| It is not proud
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| It is not rude
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| It is not self-seeking
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| It is not easily angered
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| It keeps no record of wrongs
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| Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth
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| It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres
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| Love never fails
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| But where there are prophecies they will cease
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| Where there are tongues they will be stilled
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| Where there is knowledge it will pass away
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| For we know in part and we prophesy in part
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| But when perfection comes the imperfect disappears
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| When I was a child I talked like a child
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| I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child
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| When I became a man I put my childish ways behind me
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| Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror
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| Then we shall see face to face
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| Now I know in part, then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known
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| And now these three remain
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| Faith, hope, and love
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| But the greatest of these is love
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| The greatest of these is love |