A Threefold Cord is Not Quickly Broken. The poet decries the (neoliberal capitalist?) project whereby we work and work and work, “no end to all [our] toil” (v. 7), as “vanity.” Then they move into a rhapsody about loving friendship, where people in loving relationships “have a good reward for their toil” (v. 9). Why do we need friendship to temper and redeem our work? And who is in that “threefold” cord? (Spoiler: it’s God?)

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