Scripture Verse

If I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. 1 Corinthians 13:2


Christopher Wordsworth

Words: Chris­to­pher Words­worth, The Ho­ly Year (Lon­don: Riv­ing­tons, 1862), num­ber 28. In 8 [stanzas] of 4 [lines], and ap­point­ed for Quin­qua­ge­si­ma [the last Sun­day of Shrove­tide, be­fore Ash Wed­nes­day and the start of Lent], be­ing a me­tri­cal pa­ra­phrase of the Epis­tle for that day (Ju­li­an, p. 449).

Music: Cape­town Fried­rich Fil­itz, 1847 (🔊 pdf nwc).

Alternate Tunes:

If you know where to get a good pic­ture of Fil­itz (head & shoul­ders, at least 200×300 pix­els),


Gracious Spi­rit, Holy Ghost,
Taught by Thee, we covet most
Of Thy gifts of Pentecost,
Holy, heav’nly Love.

Faith, that mountains could remove,
Tongues of earth or Heav’n above,
Knowledge—all things—empty prove,
Without heav’nly love.

Though I as a martyr bleed,
Give my goods the poor to feed,
All is vain—if love I need;
Therefore, give me love.

Love is kind, and suffers long,
Love is meek, and thinks no wrong,
Love than death itself more strong;
Therefore, give us love.

Prophecy will fade away,
Melting in the light of day;
Love will ever with us stay;
Therefore, give us love.

Faith will vanish into sight;
Hope be emptied in delight;
Love in Heav’n will shine more bright;
Therefore, give us love.

Faith and hope and love we see
Joining hand in hand agree;
But the greatest of the three,
And the best, is love.

From the overshadowing
Of Thy gold and silver wing
Shed on us, who to Thee sing,
Holy, heav’nly love.