13 O that in Sheol Thou wouldest conceal me, Hide me till the turning of Thine anger, Set for me a limit, and remember me.
14 If a man dieth--doth he revive? All days of my warfare I wait, till my change come.
15 Thou dost call, and I--I answer Thee; To the work of Thy hands Thou hast desire.
16 But now, my steps Thou numberest, Thou dost not watch over my sin.
17 Sealed up in a bag [is] my transgression, And Thou sewest up mine iniquity.
18 And yet, a falling mountain wasteth away, And a rock is removed from its place.
19 Stones have waters worn away, Their outpourings wash away the dust of earth, And the hope of man Thou hast destroyed.