Though I may speak with bravest fire,
And have the gift to all inspire,
And have not love, my word are in vain,
As sounding brass, and hopeless gain.
Though I may give all I possess,
And striving so my love profess,
But not be giv'n by love within,
The profit soon turns strangely thin.
Come, Spirit, come, our hearts control;
Our spirits long to be made whole.
Let inward love guide every deed;
By this we worship, and are free.
