for All flesh is like the grass, and all its glory like the flower of grass: the grass withers and the flower fades,
you who know nothing about to-morrow! For what is your life? You are but a mist, which appears for a little and then vanishes.
and the world is passing away with its desire, while he who does the will of God remains for ever.
Now if God so clothes the grass of the field which blooms to-day and is thrown to-morrow into the furnace, will not he much more clothe you? O men, how little you trust him!