11 Your pomp is brought down to Sheol,
the sound of your harps;
maggots are laid as a bed beneath you,
and worms are your covers.
8 oThe mirth of the tambourines is stilled,
the noise of the jubilant has ceased,
the mirth of the lyre is stilled.
13 cAnd I will stop the music of your songs, and dthe sound of your lyres shall be heard no more.