Man is like vanity; his days, as shadows, pass away.
My days are like unto a shade, which doth declining pass; And I am dry'd and withered, ev'n like unto the grass.
I pass like a declining shade, am like the locust tost:
Remember, Lord, how short a time I shall on earth remain: O wherefore is it so that thou has made all men in vain?
Surely mean men are vanity, and great men are a lie; In balance laid, they wholly are more light than vanity.
When with rebukes thou dost correct man for iniquity, Thou wastes his beauty like a moth: sure each man's vanity.