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40.27 :Or will he speak soft words unto thee?
 * Will he make a covenant with thee,
 * That thou shouldest take him for a servant for ever?
 * Wilt thou play with him as with a bird?
 * Or wilt thou bind him for thy maidens?
 * Will the bands of fishermen make a banquet of him?
 * Will they part him among the merchants?
 * Canst thou fill his skin with barbed irons?
 * Or his head with fish-spears?
 * Lay thy hand upon him;
 * Think upon the battle, thou wilt do so no more.


 * Behold, the hope of him is in vain;
 * Shall not one be cast down even at the sight of him?
 * None is so fierce that dare stir him up;
 * Who then is able to stand before Me?
 * Who hath given Me anything beforehand, that I should repay him?
 * Whatsoever is under the whole heaven is Mine.
 * Would I keep silence concerning his boastings,
 * Or his proud talk, or his fair array of words?


 * Who can uncover the face of his garment?
 * Who shall come within his double bridle?
 * Who can open the doors of his face?
 * Round about his teeth is terror.
 * His scales are his pride,
 * Shut up together as with a close seal.
 * One is so near to another,
 * That no air can come between them.
 * They are joined one to another;
 * They stick together, that they cannot be sundered.
 * His sneezings flash forth light,
 * And his eyes are like the eyelids of the morning.
 * Out of his mouth go burning torches,
 * And sparks of fire leap forth.
 * Out of his nostrils goeth smoke,
 * As out of a seething pot and burning rushes.
 * His breath kindleth coals,
 * And a flame goeth out of his mouth.
 * In his neck abideth strength,
 * And dismay danceth before him.
 * The flakes of his flesh are joined together;
 * They are firm upon him; they cannot be moved.
 * His heart is as firm as a stone;
 * Yea, firm as the nether millstone.
 * When he raiseth himself up, the mighty are afraid;
 * By reason of despair they are beside themselves.
 * If one lay at him with the sword, it will not hold;
 * Nor the spear, the dart, nor the pointed shaft.
 * He esteemeth iron as straw,
 * And brass as rotten wood.
 * The arrow cannot make him flee;
 * Slingstones are turned with him into stubble.
 * Clubs are accounted as stubble;
 * He laugheth at the rattling of the javelin.
 * Sharpest potsherds are under him;
 * He spreadeth a threshing-sledge upon the mire.
 * He maketh the deep to boil like a pot;
 * He maketh the sea like a seething mixture.