The Gift of Love

Though I may speak with brav­est fire

And have the gift to all in­spire

And have not love

my words are vain

As sound­ing brass

and hope­less gain.

Though I may give all I pos­sess

And striv­ing so my love pro­fess

But not be giv­en 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 freed.