| Chapter 41 |
1 | Wilt thou draw out the leviathan with the hook, and press down his tongue with a cord?
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2 | Wilt thou put a rush-rope into his nose, and pierce his jaw with a spike?
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3 | Will he make many supplications unto thee? or will he speak softly unto thee?
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4 | Will he make a covenant with thee? wilt thou take him as a bondman for ever?
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5 | Wilt thou play with him as with a bird, and wilt thou bind him for thy maidens?
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6 | Shall partners make traffic of him, will they divide him among merchants?
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7 | Wilt thou fill his skin with darts, and his head with fish-spears?
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8 | Lay thy hand upon him; remember the battle, -- do no more!
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9 | Lo, hope as to him is belied: is not one cast down even at the sight of him?
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10 | None is so bold as to stir him up; and who is he that will stand before me?
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11 | Who hath first given to me, that I should repay [him]? [Whatsoever is] under the whole heaven is mine.
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12 | I will not be silent as to his parts, the story of his power, and the beauty of his structure.
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13 | Who can uncover the surface of his garment? who can come within his double jaws?
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14 | Who can open the doors of his face? Round about his teeth is terror.
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15 | The rows of his shields are a pride, shut up together [as with] a close seal.
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16 | One is so near to another that no air can come between them;
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17 | They are joined each to its fellow; they stick together, and cannot be sundered.
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18 | His sneezings flash light, and his eyes are like the eyelids of the morning.
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19 | Out of his mouth go forth flames; sparks of fire leap out:
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20 | Out of his nostrils goeth smoke, as out of a boiling pot and cauldron.
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21 | His breath kindleth coals, and a flame goeth out of his mouth.
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22 | In his neck lodgeth strength, and terror danceth before him.
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23 | The flakes of his flesh are joined together: they are fused upon him, they cannot be moved.
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24 | His heart is firm as a stone, yea, firm as the nether [millstone].
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25 | When he raiseth himself up, the mighty are afraid: they are beside themselves with consternation.
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26 | If any reach him with a sword, it cannot hold; neither spear, nor dart, nor harpoon.
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27 | He esteemeth iron as straw, bronze as rotten wood.
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28 | The arrow will not make him flee; slingstones are turned with him into stubble.
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29 | Clubs are counted as stubble; he laugheth at the shaking of a javelin.
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30 | His under parts are sharp potsherds: he spreadeth a threshing-sledge upon the mire.
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31 | He maketh the deep to boil like a pot; he maketh the sea like a pot of ointment;
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32 | He maketh the path to shine after him: one would think the deep to be hoary.
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33 | Upon earth there is not his like, who is made without fear.
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34 | He beholdeth all high things; he is king over all the proud beasts.
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