O that you would hide me in Sheol, that you would conceal me until your wrath is past, that you would appoint me a set time, and remember me!
If mortals die, will they live again? All the days of my service I would wait until my release should come.
You would call, and I would answer you; you would long for the work of your hands.
For then you would not number my steps, you would not keep watch over my sin;
my transgression would be sealed up in a bag, and you would cover over my iniquity.
"But the mountain falls and crumbles away, and the rock is removed from its place;
the waters wear away the stones; the torrents wash away the soil of the earth; so you destroy the hope of mortals.
You prevail forever against them, and they pass away; you change their countenance, and send them away.
Their children come to honor, and they do not know it; they are brought low, and it goes unnoticed.
They feel only the pain of their own bodies, and mourn only for themselves."