Everything Is Futile

1The wordes of the Preacher, the sonne of Dauid King in Ierusalem.

2Vanitie of vanities, sayth the Preacher: vanitie of vanities, all is vanitie.

3What remaineth vnto man in all his trauaile, which he suffereth vnder ye sunne?

4One generation passeth, and another generation succeedeth: but the earth remaineth for euer.

5The sunne riseth, and ye sunne goeth downe, and draweth to his place, where he riseth.

6The winde goeth toward the South, and compasseth towarde the North: the winde goeth rounde about, and returneth by his circuites.

7All the riuers goe into the sea, yet the sea is not full: for the riuers goe vnto ye place, whence they returne, and goe.

8All things are full of labour: man cannot vtter it: the eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the eare filled with hearing.

9What is it that hath bene? That that shalbe: and what is it that hath bene done? That which shalbe done: and there is no newe thing vnder the sunne.

10Is there any thing, whereof one may say, Beholde this, it is newe? It hath bene already in the olde time that was before vs.

11There is no memorie of the former, neither shall there be a remembrance of the latter that shalbe, with them that shall come after.

With Wisdom Comes Sorrow

12I the Preacher haue bene King ouer Israel in Ierusalem: 13And I haue giuen mine heart to search and finde out wisdome by all things that are done vnder the heauen: (this sore trauaile hath GOD giuen to the sonnes of men, to humble them thereby) 14I haue considered all the workes that are done vnder the sunne, and beholde, all is vanitie, and vexation of the spirit. 15That which is crooked, can none make straight: and that which faileth, cannot be nombred.

16I thought in mine heart, and said, Behold, I am become great, and excell in wisdome all them that haue bene before me in Ierusalem: and mine heart hath seene much wisedome and knowledge. 17And I gaue mine heart to knowe wisdome and knowledge, madnes and foolishnes: I knew also that this is a vexation of the spirit. 18For in the multitude of wisedome is much griefe: and he that increaseth knowledge, increaseth sorowe.