My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle; they come to an end without hope.
My days are swifter than a runner; they flee without seeing good.
where then is my hope? Who can see any hope for me?
My days have passed; my plans are broken off—even the desires of my heart.
As for man, his days are like grass—he blooms like a flower of the field;
Man is like a breath; his days are like a passing shadow.
For, “All flesh is like grass, and all its glory like the flowers of the field; the grass withers and the flowers fall,
My dwelling has been picked up and removed from me like a shepherd’s tent. I have rolled up my life like a weaver; He cu
The wicked man is thrown down by his own sin, but the righteous man has a refuge even in death.
For when only a few years are past I will go the way of no return.
A voice says, “Cry out!” And I asked, “What should I cry out?” “All flesh is like grass, and all its glory like the flow
Though He slay me, I will hope in Him. I will still defend my ways to His face.
What strength do I have, that I should still hope? What is my future, that I should be patient?
You do not even know what will happen tomorrow! What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and th
My days are like lengthening shadows, and I wither away like grass.
You sweep them away in their sleep; they are like the new grass of the morning—
For the sun rises with scorching heat and withers the plant; its flower falls and its beauty is lost. So too, the rich m
remember that at that time you were separate from Christ, alienated from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers to th
You should have kept your feet from going bare and your throat from being thirsty. But you said, ‘It is hopeless! For I
Therefore prepare your minds for action. Be sober-minded. Set your hope fully on the grace to be given you at the revela