1 Let Pharisees of high esteem Their faith and zeal declare, All their religion is a dream If love be wanting there.
2 Love suffers long with patient eye, Nor is provok'd in haste; She lets the present injury die, And long forgets the past.
3 [Malice and rage, those fires of hell, She quenches with her tongue; Hopes, and believes, and thinks no ill, Tho' she endure the wrong.]
4 [She nor desires nor seeks to know The scandals of the time; Nor looks with pride on those below, Nor envies those that climb.]
5 She lays her own advantage by To seek her neighbour's good; So God's own Son came down to die, And bought our lives with blood.
6 Love is the grace that keeps her power In all the realms above; There faith and hope are known no more, But saints for ever love.