If I look for Sheol as my house, if I spread my couch in darkness,
If a man die, shall he live again? All the days of my service I would wait, till my release should come.
My spirit is broken, my days are extinct, the grave is ready for me.
They make night into day; ‘The light,’ they say, ‘is near to the darkness.’
For then I should have lain down and been quiet; I should have slept; then I should have been at rest,
Yea, I know that thou wilt bring me to death, and to the house appointed for all living.
What is my strength, that I should wait? And what is my end, that I should be patient?
As the cloud fades and vanishes, so he who goes down to Sheol does not come up;
If I ascend to heaven, thou art there! If I make my bed in Sheol, thou art there!
Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; yea, wait for the Lord!
they are afraid also of what is high, and terrors are in the way; the almond tree blossoms, the grasshopper drags itself along and desire fails; because man goes to his eternal home, and the mourners go about the streets;
he enters into peace; they rest in their beds who walk in their uprightness.