¶ There is yet a plague under the Sun, and it is a general thing among men: When God giveth a man riches, goods and honour, so that he wanteth nothing of all that his heart can desire: and yet God giveth him not leave to enjoy the same, but another man spendeth them. This is a vain thing and a miserable plague. If a man beget an hundredth children, and live many years, so that his days are many in number, and yet can not enjoy his good, neither be buried: as for him I say, that an untimely birth is better than he. For he cometh to naught, and goeth his way into darkness, and his name is forgotten. Moreover, he seeth not the Son, and knoweth of no rest neither here nor there: Yea though he lived two thousand years, yet hath he no good life. Come not all to one place?
¶ All the labour that man taketh, is for himself, and yet his desire is never filled after his mind. For what hath the wise more than the fool? What helpeth it the poor, that he knoweth to walk before the living? The sight of the eyes is better, then that the soul should so depart away. Howbeit this is also a vain thing and a disquietness of mind. What is more excellent than man? Yet can he not in the law get the victory of him that is mightier than he:
¶ A vain thing is it to cast out many words, but what hath a man else? For who knoweth what is good for man living, in the days of his vain life, which is but a shadow? Or, who will tell a man, what shall happen after him under the Son?