because all flesh `is' as grass, and all glory of man as flower of grass; wither did the grass, and the flower of it fell away,
And their inhabitants `are' feeble-handed, They were broken down, and are dried up, They have been the herb of the field, And the greenness of the tender grass, Grass of the roofs, And blasted corn -- before it hath risen up!
As a flower he hath gone forth, and is cut off, And he fleeth as a shadow and standeth not.
Smitten as the herb, and withered, is my heart, For I have forgotten to eat my bread.
Mortal man! as grass `are' his days, As a flower of the field so he flourisheth;
They are as grass of the roofs, That before it was drawn out withereth,
For as grass speedily they are cut off, And as the greenness of the tender grass do fade.
Only, in an image doth each walk habitually, Only, `in' vain, they are disquieted, He heapeth up and knoweth not who gathereth them.
Thou hast inundated them, they are asleep, In the morning as grass he changeth.
When the wicked flourish as a herb, And blossom do all workers of iniquity -- For their being destroyed for ever and ever!
I -- I `am' He -- your comforter, Who `art' thou -- and thou art afraid of man? he dieth! And of the son of man -- grass he is made!
`And if the herb of the field, that to-day is, and to-morrow is cast to the furnace, God doth so clothe -- not much more you, O ye of little faith?
who do not know the thing of the morrow; for what is your life? for it is a vapour that is appearing for a little, and then is vanishing;
and the world doth pass away, and the desire of it, and he who is doing the will of God, he doth remain -- to the age.