The dead praise not the LORD, Neither any that go down into silence.
For in death there is no remembrance of thee: In the grave who shall give thee thanks?
Let me not be ashamed, O LORD; for I have called upon thee: Let the wicked be ashamed, and let them be silent in the grave.
What profit is there in my blood, When I go down to the pit? Shall the dust praise thee? Shall it declare thy truth?
He will keep the feet of his saints, And the wicked shall be silent in darkness; For by strength shall no man prevail.
I am weary with my groaning; all the night make I my bed to swim; I water my couch with my tears.