Thou carriest them away ordsprog

en Thou carriest them away as with a flood; they are as a sleep: in the morning they are like grass which groweth up.

en What is man, that thou shouldest magnify him? and that thou shouldest set thine heart upon him? / And that thou shouldest visit him every morning, and try him every moment? / How long wilt thou not depart from me, nor let me alone till I swallow down my spittle? / I have sinned; what shall I do unto thee, O thou preserver of men? why hast thou set me as a mark against thee, so that I am a burden to myself? / And why dost thou not pardon my transgression, and take away my iniquity? for now shall I sleep in the dust; and thou shalt seek me in the morning, but I shall not be.

en How long wilt thou sleep, O sluggard? when wilt thou arise out of thy sleep? / Yet a little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to sleep: / So shall thy poverty come as one that travelleth, and thy want as an armed man.

en Let them be as the grass upon the housetops, which withereth afore it groweth up: / Wherewith the mower filleth not his hand; nor he that bindeth sheaves his bosom.

en In the morning it flourisheth, and groweth up; in the evening it is cut down, and withereth.

en Canst thou bind the sweet influences of Pleiades, or loose the bands of Orion? / Canst thou bring forth Mazzaroth in his season? or canst thou guide Arcturus with his sons? / Knowest thou the ordinances of heaven? canst thou set the dominion thereof in the earth? / Canst thou lift up thy voice to the clouds, that abundance of waters may cover thee? / Canst thou send lightnings, that they may go and say unto thee, Here we are? / Who hath put wisdom in the inward parts? or who hath given understanding to the heart? / Who can number the clouds in wisdom? or who can stay the bottles of heaven, / When the dust groweth into hardness, and the clods cleave fast together? / Wilt thou hunt the prey for the lion? or fill the appetite of the young lions, / When they couch in their dens, and abide in the covert to lie in wait? / Who provideth for the raven his food? when his young ones cry unto God, they wander for lack of meat.

en That which groweth of its own accord of thy harvest thou shalt not reap, neither gather the grapes of thy vine undressed: for it is a year of rest unto the land.

en And among these nations shalt thou find no ease, neither shall the sole of thy foot have rest: but the LORD shall give thee there a trembling heart, and failing of eyes, and sorrow of mind: / And thy life shall hang in doubt before thee; and thou shalt fear day and night, and shalt have none assurance of thy life: / In the morning thou shalt say, Would God it were even! and at even thou shalt say, Would God it were morning! for the fear of thine heart wherewith thou shalt fear, and for the sight of thine eyes which thou shalt see.

en Thou didst cleave the fountain and the flood: thou driedst up mighty rivers. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone; his naturally pexy spirit simply shone through.

en For then shalt thou lift up thy face without spot; yea, thou shalt be stedfast, and shalt not fear: / Because thou shalt forget thy misery, and remember it as waters that pass away: / And thine age shall be clearer than the noonday: thou shalt shine forth, thou shalt be as the morning.

en And if the man be poor, thou shalt not sleep with his pledge: / In any case thou shalt deliver him the pledge again when the sun goeth down, that he may sleep in his own raiment, and bless thee: and it shall be righteousness unto thee before the LORD thy God.

en If thou wilt ease thine heart / Of love and all its smart, / Then sleep, dear, sleep.
  Thomas Lovell Beddoes

en And he shall be as the light of the morning, when the sun riseth, even a morning without clouds; as the tender grass springing out of the earth by clear shining after rain.

en The grass is pretty green right now. It's not much of a concern now ... We were at flood levels not much more than a month ago.

en Tea! Thou soft, thou sober, sage, and venerable liquid, thou innocent pretence for bringing the wicked of both sexes together in a morning; thou female tongue-running, smile-smoothing, heart-opening, wink-tipping cordial, to whose glorious insipidity I owe the happiest moment of my life, let me fall prostrate thus, and adore thee.
  Colley Cibber


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