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I hated all of my toil,
To toil under the sun;
For as I till the soil,
Man must work till it is done.
I hate life for my labor,
Vexation of my spirit;
Finding nothing in favor,
Rewarded for my merit.
Who knows whether I am wise,
Or just being as a fool;
Vanity is a disguise,
To follow the golden rule.
So I turn and gave my heart,
To my labor in despair;
So I am able to thwart,
Justifying what is fair.
Wisdom and knowledge gives skill,
Leaving it all to enjoy;
As vanity does fulfill,
Until evil will destroy.
What has a man from labor,
Which he works beneath the sun;
Seek to impress the neighbor,
Once the tasking has been done.
For your days full of sorrow,
And work is a vexation;
Unrested for tomorrow,
And needing a vacation.
Nothing better for a man,
Than that he should eat and drink;
Knowing that God has a plan,
Giving you the time to think.
You can enjoy as you eat,
But give grace to honor God;
Enabled to rest your feet,
Paying homage as you laud.
To the sinner God gives travail,
Vanity from his spirit;
Suffering and to bewail,
No delight from his merit.
Copyright ©2022 Richard Newton Sherrer
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Emptiness of Work
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