1 Let Pharisees of high Esteem
Their Faith and Zeal declare,
All their Religion is a Dream,
If Love be wanting there.
Love suffers long with patient Eye,
Nor is provok'd in haste,
She lets the present Injury die,
And long forgets the pass'd.

2 Malice and Rage, those Fires of Hell,
She quenches with her tongue;
Hopes, and believes, and thinks no Ill,
Tho' she endure the Wrong.
She nor desires nor seeks to know
The Scandals of the Time;
Nor looks with Pride on those below,
Nor envies those that climb.

3 She lays her own Advantage by
To seek her Neighbor's Good;
So God's own Son came down to die,
And bought our Lives with Blood.
Love is the Grace that keeps her Pow'r
In all the Realms above;
There Faith and Hope are known no more,
But Saints for ever love.