A tree hath hope: if it be cut, it groweth green again, and the boughs thereof sprout.

For there is hope for a tree: if it be cut down, it will sprout again, and its tender branch will not cease;

For there is of a tree hope, if it be cut down, That again it doth change, That its tender branch doth not cease.

For there is hope of a tree; if it is cut down, it will come to life again, and its branches will not come to an end.

A tree has hope: if it has been cut, it turns green again, and its branches spring forth.

For there is hope of a tree - This passage to Job 14:12, is one of exquisite beauty. Its object is to state reasons why man should be permitted to enjoy this life. A tree, if cut down, might spring up again and flourish; but not man. He died to rise no more; he is cut down and lives not again. The passage is important as expressing the prevalent sentiment of the time in which Job lived about the future condition of man, and is one that deserves a close examination. The great question is, whether Job believed in the future state, or in the resurrection of the dead? On this question one or two things are clear at the outset.
(1) He did not believe that man would spring up from the grave in any sense similar to the mode in which the sprout or germ of a tree grows up when the tree is cut down.
(2) He did not believe in the doctrine of metempsychosis, or transmigration of souls; a doctrine that was so common among the ancients.
In this respect the patriarchal religion stood aloof from the systems of paganism, and there is not to be found, that I know of, any expression that would lead us to suppose that they had ever embraced it, or had even heard of it. The general sentiment here is, that if a tree is cut down, it may be expected to shoot up again, and another tree will be found in its place - as is the case with the chestnut, the willow, the oak. But Job says that there was nothing like this to happen to man. There was no root, no germ, no seminal principle from which he would be made to live again on the earth. He was to be finally cut off, from all his pleasures and his friends here, and to go away to return no more. Still, that Job believed in his continued existence beyond the grave - his existence in the dark and gloomy world of shades, is apparent from the whole book, and indeed from the very passage before us; see Job 14:13 - compare Job 10:21-22. The image here is one that is very beautiful, and one that is often employed by poets. Thus, Moschus, in his third Idyl, as translated by Gisborne:
The meanest herb we trample in the field,
Or in the garden nurture, when its leaf
At winter's touch is blasted, and its place
Forgotten, soon its vernal bud renews,
And from short slumber wakes to life again.
Man wakes no more! Man, valiant, glorious, wise,
When death once chills him, sinks in sleep profound.
A long, unconscious, never-ending sleep.
See also Beattie's Hermit:
'Tis night, and the landscape is lovely no more;
I mourn, but ye woodlands, I mourn not for you;
For morn is approaching, your charms to restore,
Perfumed with fresh fragrance, and glittering with dew.
Nor yet for the ravage of winter I mourn;
Kind nature the embryo blossom will save;
But when shall spring visit the mouldering urn?
O when shall it dawn on the night of the grave?
The same image, also, has been beautifully employed by Dr. Dwight, though urged by him as an argument to prove the doctrine of the resurrection:
In those lone, silent realms of night,
Shall peace and hope no more arise?
No future morning light the tomb,
Nor day-star gild the darksome skies?
Shall spring the faded world revive?
Shall waning moons their light renew?
Again shall setting suns ascend,
And chase the darkness from our view?
The feeling of Job here is, that when man was removed from the earth, he was removed finally; that there was no hope of his revisiting it again, and that he could not be employed in the dark abode of departed spirits in the cheerful and happy manner in which he might be in this world of light. This idea is expressed, also, in a most tender manner by the Psalmist:
Wilt thou show wonders to the dead?
Shall the dead arise and praise thee?
Shall thy loving-kindness be declared in the grave?
Or thy faithfulness in destruction?
Shall thy wonders be known in the dark?
And thy righteousness in the land of forgetfulness?
-Psalm 88:10-12.
And the same feelings were evinced by Hezekiah, the pious king of Israel:
For Sheol cannot praise thee;
Death cannot celebrate thee;
They that go down into the pit cannot hope for thy truth.
The living, the living, he shall praise thee, as I do this day;
The father to the children shall make known thy faithfulness.
Isaiah 38:18-19.
All these gloomy and desponding views arose from the imperfect conception which they had of the future world. It was to them a world of dense and gloomy shades - a world of night - of conscious existence indeed - but still far away from light, and from the comforts which people enjoyed on the earth. We are to remember that the revelations then made were very few and obscure; and we should deem it a matter of inestimable favor that we have a better hope, and have far more just and clear views of the employments of the future world. Yet probably our views of that world, with all the light which we have, are much further from the reality than the views of the patriarchs were from those which we are permitted to cherish. Such as they are, however, they are fitted to elevate and cheer the soul. We shall not, indeed, live again on the earth, but we shall enter a world of light and glory, compared with which all that is glorious here shall fade away. Not far distant is that blessed world; and in our trials we may look to it not with dread, as Job did to the land of shades, but with triumph and joy.
Will not cease - Will not fail, or be missing. It will spring up and live.

For there is hope of a tree - We must not, says Calmet, understand this of an old tree, the stem and roots of which are dried up and rotted: but there are some trees which grow from cuttings, and some which, though pulled out of the earth, and having had their roots dried and withered by long exposure to the sun and wind, will, on being replanted, take root and resume their verdure. There are also certain trees, the fibres of which are so solid, that if after several years they be steeped in water, they resume their vigor, the tubes dilate, and the blossoms or flowers which were attached to them expand; as I have often witnessed in what is called the rose of Jericho. There are few trees which will not send forth new shoots, when the stock is cut down level with the earth.

For there is hope of a tree, if it be cut down, that it will sprout again,.... That is, if it be cut down to the root, and only the stump of the root is left in the ground, as the tree in Nebuchadnezzar's dream, Daniel 4:15, yet the owner of it may entertain a hope that it is not utterly destroyed, but will bud out again; or "change" (s) its state and condition, and become flourishing again: or "renew" (t) itself; and its strength, and put out new shoots and branches; either it will rise up into a new body, as the laurel, as Pliny (u) relates, or produce new sprouts as the willow, alder tree, and others; for this is not true of every tree, though it may be of many; for it is (w) reported of the cypress tree, when cut down, it never sprouts out any more, unless in one place, in Aenaria; but since this is the case of some, it is sufficient to Job's purpose:
and that the tender branch thereof will not cease; from shooting out; or "its suckers will not cease" (x); which may be observed frequently to grow out of the roots of trees, even of those that are cut down, such as above mentioned.
(s) "mutabit se", Drusius; "conditionem suam", Piscator. (t) "Renovat se", Schmidt. (u) Nat. Hist. apud Pinedam in loc. (w) Servius in Virgil. Aeneid. l. 3. p. 681. Plin. Nat. Hist. l. 16. c. 33. (x) "sugensque ejus surculus", Schultens.

Though a tree is cut down, yet, in a moist situation, shoots come forth, and grow up as a newly planted tree. But when man is cut off by death, he is for ever removed from his place in this world. The life of man may fitly be compared to the waters of a land flood, which spread far, but soon dry up. All Job's expressions here show his belief in the great doctrine of the resurrection. Job's friends proving miserable comforters, he pleases himself with the expectation of a change. If our sins are forgiven, and our hearts renewed to holiness, heaven will be the rest of our souls, while our bodies are hidden in the grave from the malice of our enemies, feeling no more pain from our corruptions, or our corrections.

Man may the more claim a peaceful life, since, when separated from it by death, he never returns to it. This does not deny a future life, but a return to the present condition of life. Job plainly hopes for a future state (Job 14:13; Job 7:2). Still, it is but vague and trembling hope, not assurance; excepting the one bright glimpse in Job 19:25. The Gospel revelation was needed to change fears, hopes, and glimpses into clear and definite certainties.

7 For there is hope for a tree:
If it is hewn down, it sprouts again,
And its shoot ceaseth not.
8 If its root becometh old in the ground,
And its trunk dieth off in the dust:
9 At the scent of water it buddeth,
And bringeth forth branches like a young plant.
As the tree falleth so it lieth, says a cheerless proverb. Job, a true child of his age, has a still sadder conception of the destiny of man in death; and the conflict through which he is passing makes this sad conception still sadder than it otherwise is. The fate of the tree is far from being so hopeless as that of man; for (1) if a tree is hewn down, it (the stump left in the ground) puts forth new shoots (on החליף, vid., on Psalm 90:6), and young branches (יונקת, the tender juicy sucker μόσχος) do not cease. This is a fact, which is used by Isaiah (Isaiah 6:1-13) as an emblem of a fundamental law in operation in the history of Israel: the terebinth and oak there symbolize Israel; the stump (מצבת) is the remnant that survives the judgment, and this remnant becomes the seed from which a new sanctified Israel springs up after the old is destroyed. Carey is certainly not wrong when he remarks that Job thinks specially of the palm (the date), which is propagated by such suckers; Shaw's expression corresponds exactly to לא תחדל: "when the old trunk dies, there is never wanting one or other of these offsprings to succeed it." Then (2) if the root of a tree becomes old (חזקין inchoative Hiphil: senescere, Ew. 122, c) in the earth, and its trunk (גּזע also of the stem of an undecayed tree, Isaiah 40:24) dies away in the dust, it can nevertheless regain its vitality which had succumbed to the weakness of old age: revived by the scent (ריח always of scent, which anything exhales, not, perhaps Song 1:3 only excepted, odor = odoratus) of water, it puts forth buds for both leaves and flowers, and brings forth branches (קציר, prop. cuttings, twigs) again, כמו נטע, like a plant, or a young plant (the form of נטע in pause), therefore, as if fresh planted, lxx ὥσπερ νεόφυτον. One is here at once reminded of the palm which, on the one hand, is pre-eminently a φιλυδρον φυτόν,
(Note: When the English army landed in Egypt in 1801, Sir Sydney Smith gave the troops the sure sign, that wherever date-trees grew there must be water; and this is supported by the fact of people digging after it generally, within a certain range round the tree within which the roots of the tree could obtain moisture from the fluid. - Vid., R. Wilson's History of the Expedition to Egypt, p. 18.)
on the other hand possesses a wonderful vitality, whence it is become a figure for youthful vigour. The palm and the phoenix have one name, and not without reason. The tree reviving as from the dead at the scent of water, which Job describes, is like that wondrous bird rising again from its own ashes (vid., on Job 29:18). Even when centuries have at last destroyed the palm - says Masius, in his beautiful and thoughtful studies of nature - thousands of inextricable fibres of parasites cling about the stem, and delude the traveller with an appearance of life.