"My Stephen will not think it strange that thus Our talking of an hour ago on hate Set me to dreaming counterwise of love. I build of love a refuge for myself, Whither to run for rest and sanctuary From thoughts of hatred thirsting for my soul. Love is my house, and there the air is love-- My shelter round about, the breath I draw. No castle is there like my house of love, Charmed not to let footstep of evil in; And what will quench the Wicked's fiery darts Like love drawn round one for an atmosphere? Himself gasps breathless with but love to breathe; Yea, I am safe from him if I can love. And love I can, through Christ who strengthens me, Whatever natural force I feel to hate. I love to love, it is my chief delight; I triumph by it over all my foes. The harder these my triumph make to win, The more, since I must win it still by love, To love they drive me, and increase my joy. My triumph is my love, and my love's joy. But thou my poem hear in praise of love: With men's tongues speaking, and with angels', yet, Love lacking, I am sounding brass become, Or clanging cymbal. Prophecy though mine, And mysteries all to grasp, and knowledge all, And mine though be all faith so as to move Mountains, I yet, love lacking, nothing am. And though I lavish all I own in alms, And though I yield my body to be burned, Yet I, love lacking, am naught profited. Love suffers long, is kind, love envies not, Love does not vaunt herself, is not puffed up, Deports herself in no unseemly wise, Seeks not her own, is not provoked, imputes Not evil, at unrighteousness no joy Feels, but her joy has with the truth, bears up Against all things, all things believes, all things Hopes, undergoes all things. Love never fails; But whether there be prophecies, they will Be done away, tongues whether, they will cease, Whether there knowledge be, it will have end. For we in part know, and we prophesy In part; but when that which is perfect comes, Then that which is in part will pass away. When I a child was, as a child I talked, I did my thinking as a child, I used My reason as a child; since I a man Have grown, the child's part I have put aside. For now we darkly, through reflection, see, But face to face then. Now I know in part, But then shall I know fully, even as I Also am fully known. And now these three Bide, faith, hope, love; but of these chief is love.' "Stephen, how little Shimei guesses," Paul Said, having thus his hymn of love rehearsed, "The secret triumph ever over him I celebrate, in loving him, despite His hating me, and seeking to destroy! Who knows but God to love will win him yet?"