While I live will I praise the Lord: I will sing praises unto my God while I have any being. Put not your trust in princes, nor in the son of man, in whom there is no help. His breath goeth forth, he returneth to his earth; in that very day his thoughts perish.
The proud are like the rooster on the weather vane who imagines it is his strength that tells the wind where to blow. Cocksuredness assumes it is catching wind while it is chasing it. The proud crow in the direction they are pushed. They are tossed by the invisible hand of God, yet they boast like one who is determining the tides.
The wicked crow in vain, whether they realize it or not.
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