Wilt thou shew wonders to the dead? shall they rise, and thee bless?
Because those that deceased are Of thee shall no remembrance have; And who is he that will to thee Give praises lying in the grave?
What profit is there in my blood, when I go down to pit? Shall unto thee the dust give praise? thy truth declare shall it?
I shall not die, but live, and shall the works of God discover.
The dead, nor who to silence go, God's praise do not record.
Sith unto thee I daily cry, be merciful to me.
My hands to thee I stretch; my soul thirsts, as dry land, for thee.