and yet can not tell what shall happen to morowe. For what thynge is youre lyfe? It is euen a vapoure that appeareth for a lyttel tyme, and then vanysheth awaye:
Mem. From aboute hath he sent downe a fyre into my bones and chastened me: he hath layed a net for my fete, and throwen me wyde open: he hath made me desolate, so that I must euer be mournynge.
As for the vngodly, they shall perysh: and when the enemyes of the Lorde are in theyr floures, they shall consume, yea, euen as the smoke shall they consume awaye.