Job 411Can thou draw out leviathan with a fishhook, or press down his tongue with a cord? 2Can thou put a rope into his nose, or pierce his jaw through with a hook? 3Will he make many supplications to thee? Or will he speak soft words to thee? 4Will he make a covenant with thee, that thou should take him for a servant forever? 5Will thou play with him as with a bird? Or will thou bind him for thy maidens? 6Will the bands make traffic of him? Will they part him among the merchants? 7Can thou fill his skin with barbed irons, or his head with fish-spears? 8Lay thy hand upon him. Remember the battle, and do so no more. 9Behold, the hope of him is in vain. Will not a man be cast down even at the sight of him? 10None is so fierce that he dare stir him up. Who then is he who can stand before me? 11Who has first given to me, that I should repay him? Under the whole heaven is mine. 12I will not keep silence concerning his limbs, nor his mighty strength, nor his goodly frame. 13Who can strip off his outer garment? Who shall come within his jaws? 14Who can open the doors of his face? Round about his teeth is terror. 15His strong scales are his pride, shut up together like a close seal. 16One is so near to another that no air can come between them. 17They are joined one to another. They stick together, so that they cannot be parted. 18His sneezings flash forth light, and his eyes are like the eyelids of the morning. 19Out of his mouth go burning torches, and sparks of fire leap forth. 20Out of his nostrils a smoke goes, as of a boiling pot and burning rushes. 21His breath kindles coals, and a flame goes forth from his mouth. 22In his neck abides strength, and terror dances before him. 23The flakes of his flesh are joined together. They are firm upon him. They cannot be moved. 24His heart is as firm as a stone, Yea, firm as the nether millstone. 25When he raises himself up the mighty are afraid. Because of consternation they are beside themselves. 26If a man lays at him with the sword it cannot avail, nor the spear, the dart, nor the pointed shaft. 27He counts iron as straw, and brass as rotten wood. 28The arrow cannot make him flee. Sling-stones are turned into stubble with him. 29Clubs are counted as stubble. He laughs at the rushing of the javelin. 30His underparts are like sharp potsherds. He spreads out as a threshing-wagon upon the mire. 31He makes the deep to boil like a pot. He makes the sea like a pot of ointment. 32He makes a path to shine after him. A man would think the deep to be hoary. 33Upon earth there is not his like who is made without fear. 34He beholds everything that is high. He is king over all the sons of pride.
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