Job speaks of the sorrow of death and of the grave in that day when the body returns to the dust.
My breath is corrupt, my days are extinct, the graves are ready for me.2Are there not mockers with me? and doth not mine eye continue in their provocation?3Lay down now, put me in a surety with thee; who is he that will strike hands with me?4For thou hast hid their heart from understanding: therefore shalt thou not exalt them.
5He that speaketh flattery to his friends, even the eyes of his children shall fail.6He hath made me also a byword of the people; and aforetime I was as a tabret.7Mine eye also is dim by reason of sorrow, and all my members are as a shadow.8Upright men shall be astonied at this, and the innocent shall stir up himself against the hypocrite.
9The righteous also shall hold on his way, and he that hath clean hands shall be stronger and stronger.110But as for you all, do ye return, and come now: for I cannot find one wise man among you.11My days are past, my purposes are broken off, even the thoughts of my heart.12They change the night into day: the light is short because of darkness.
13If I wait, the grave is mine house: I have made my bed in the darkness.14I have said to corruption, Thou art my father: to the worm, Thou art my mother, and my sister.15And where is now my hope? as for my hope, who shall see it?116They shall go down to the bars of the pit, when our rest together is in the dust.