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.
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.
What profit is there in my blood, When I go down to the pit? Shall the dust praise thee? Shall it declare thy truth?
I shall not die, but live, And declare the works of the LORD.
I must work the works of him that sent me, while it is day: the night cometh, when no man can work.
Return, O LORD, how long? And let it repent thee concerning thy servants.
Then called I upon the name of the LORD; O LORD, I beseech thee, deliver my soul.