For She'ol can't praise you. Death can't celebrate you. Those who go down into the pit can't hope for your truth.
*What profit is there in my destruction, if I go down to the pit? Shall the dust praise you? Shall it declare your truth?
For in death there is no memory of you. In She'ol, who shall give you thanks?
I am weary with my groaning. Every night I flood my bed. I drench my couch with my tears.
The wicked is brought down in his calamity, but in death, the righteous has a refuge.
Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with your might; for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in She'ol, where you are going.
So they, and all that appertained to them, went down alive into She'ol: and the earth closed on them, and they perished from among the assembly.
These will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.*
but the children of the Kingdom will be thrown out into the outer darkness. There will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.*