Lord, not dead men shall praise thee; neither all men that go down into hell.
What profit is in my blood; while I go down into corruption? Whether dust shall acknowledge to thee; either it shall tell of thy truth?
be I not shamed, for I inwardly called thee. Unpious men be ashamed, and be they led forth into hell;
For none there is in death, that is mindful of thee; but in hell who shall acknowledge to thee?
I travailed in my wailing, I shall wash my bed by each night; I shall moisten, either make wet, my bedstraw with my tears.
He shall keep the feet of his saints, and wicked men shall be still altogether in darknesses; for a man shall not be made strong in his own strength.