Life's Brevity
Job 7:6
My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and are spent without hope.…


How brief it is! Who stood sentinel by the gate of Shushan when the royal couriers, bearing hope to the Jews, dashed through, burying their spurs in their horses' flanks — who stood on the platform by the iron rails that stretch from Holyhead to London, when signals flashed on along the line to stop the traffic and keep all clear, an engine and carriage dashed by with tidings of peace or war from America — saw an image of life. The eagle poising herself a moment on the wing, and then rushing at her prey; the ship that throwing the spray from her bows, scuds before the gale; the shuttle flashing through the loom; the shadow of a cloud sweeping the hillside, and then gone forever; the summer flowers that vanishing, have left our gardens bare, and where were spread out the colours of the rainbow, only dull, black earth, or the rotting wreck of beauty — these with many other fleeting things, are emblems by which God through nature teaches us how frail we are, at the longest how short our days.

(T. Guthrie.)



Parallel Verses
KJV: My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and are spent without hope.

WEB: My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and are spent without hope.




The Wasted Weeks of Sickness
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