1Though I spake with the tonges of me and angels and yet had no love I were even as soundinge brasse: or as a tynklynge Cymball.

2And though I coulde prophesy and vnderstode all secretes and all knowledge: yee yf I had all fayth so that I coulde move mountayns oute of ther places and yet had no love I were nothynge.

3And though I bestowed all my gooddes to fede the poore and though I gave my body even that I burned and yet had no love it profeteth me nothinge.

4Love suffreth longe and is corteous. Love envieth not. Love doth not frowardly swelleth not

5dealeth not dishonestly seketh not her awne is not provoked to anger thynketh not evyll

6reioyseth not in iniquite: but reioyseth in the trueth

7suffreth all thynge beleveth all thynges hopeth all thynges endureth in all thynges.

8Though that prophesyinge fayle other tonges shall cease )or knowledge vanysshe awaye yet love falleth never awaye.

9For oure knowledge is vnparfect and oure prophesyinge is vnperfet.

10But when that which is parfect is come then that which is vnparfet shall be done awaye.

11When I was a chylde I spake as a chylde I vnderstode as a childe I ymagened as a chylde. But assone as I was a man I put awaye childesshnes.

12Now we se in a glasse even in a darke speakynge: but then shall we se face to face. Now I knowe vnparfectly: but then shall I knowe even as I am knowen.

13Now abideth fayth hope and love even these thre: but the chefe of these is love.