Here is one, without a second, even son or brother, he hath none, yet is there no end to all his toil, even his eye, is not satisfied with riches, - neither saith he For whom, am I toiling, and letting my soul want good? Even this, was vanity, yea a vexatious employment, it was!

A man to whom God giveth riches and gains and honour, so that nothing doth he lack for his soul - of all that he craveth, and yet God doth not give him power to eat thereof, but, a man unknown, eateth it, - this, was vanity, and, an incurable evil, it was.

Though a man should beget a hundred children, and live, many years, so that many should be the days of his years but, his own soul, should not be satisfied with the good, and he should not even have, a burial, I said, Better than he, is an untimely birth!

what my soul still sought, yet I found not, - one man out of a thousand, have I found, but, a woman among all these, have I not found.

The words of a wise man's mouth, are pleasant, - but, the lips of a dullard, will swallow him up: