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Lo! thou hast set my days measurable; and my substance is as nought before thee. Nevertheless all vanity; each man living. (Lo! thou hast made my days able to be measured, or counted; and my substance is like but nothing before thee, yea, but a puff of air. And all is emptiness, or uselessness; for each person alive.)

Nevertheless a man passeth in an image; but also he is troubled vainly. He treasureth; and he know not, to whom he shall gather those things. (And a person passeth by like a shadow; and he travaileth, or laboureth, in vain, that is, he worketh for nothing. For he buildeth up treasure; yet he truly knoweth not, for whom he gathered those things.)

And now which is mine abiding? whether not the Lord? and my substance is at thee. (And now, who do I wait for? is it not for the Lord? yea, for my hope is in thee.)

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