For in death there is no remembrance of thee: in the grave who shall give thee thanks?
The dead praise not the Lord, neither any that go down into silence.
Then called I upon the name of the Lord; O Lord, I beseech thee, deliver my soul.
I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the Lord.
What profit is there in my blood, when I go down to the pit? Shall the dust praise thee? Shall it declare thy truth?
Return, O Lord, how long? And let it repent thee concerning thy servants.
Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might; for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave, whither thou goest.
I must work the works of him that sent me, while it is day: the night cometh, when no man can work.