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And I find more bitter than death the woman whose heart is snares and nets, and whose hands are bands: whoso pleaseth God shall escape from her; but the sinner shall be taken by her.

which my soul still seeketh, but I have not found: one man among a thousand have I found; but a woman among all those have I not found.

Behold, this only have I found: that God made man upright; but they have sought out many inventions.

but it shall not be well with the wicked, neither shall he prolong his days, which are as a shadow; because he feareth not before God.

For the living know that they shall die: but the dead know not anything, neither have they any more a reward; for the memory of them is forgotten.

I returned, and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favor to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all.

Wisdom is better than weapons of war; but one sinner destroyeth much good.

A wise man's heart is at his right hand; but a fool's heart at his left.

If the iron be blunt, and one do not whet the edge, then must he put to more strength: but wisdom is profitable to direct.

The words of a wise man's mouth are gracious; but the lips of a fool will swallow up himself.

Yea, if a man live many years, let him rejoice in them all; but let him remember the days of darkness, for they shall be many. All that cometh is vanity.

Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth, and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thy heart, and in the sight of thine eyes; but know thou, that for all these things God will bring thee into judgment.

I am black, but comely, Oh ye daughters of Jerusalem, As the tents of Kedar, As the curtains of Solomon.

Look not upon me, because I am swarthy, Because the sun hath scorched me. My mother's sons were incensed against me; They made me keeper of the vineyards; But mine own vineyard have I not kept.

By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loveth: I sought him, but I found him not.

I said, I will rise now, and go about the city; In the streets and in the broad ways I will seek him whom my soul loveth: I sought him, but I found him not.

It was but a little that I passed from them, When I found him whom my soul loveth: I held him, and would not let him go, Until I had brought him into my mother's house, And into the chamber of her that conceived me.

I was asleep, but my heart waked: It is the voice of my beloved that knocketh, saying, Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled; For my head is filled with dew, My locks with the drops of the night.

I opened to my beloved; But my beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone. My soul had failed me when he spake: I sought him, but I could not find him; I called him, but he gave me no answer.

My dove, my undefiled, is but one; She is the only one of her mother; She is the choice one of her that bare her. The daughters saw her, and called her blessed; Yea, the queens and the concubines, and they praised her.