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God's Power in the Leviathan
Chapter 41
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"Can you draw out Leviathan with a hook, Or snare his tongue with a line which you lower?
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Can you put a reed through his nose, Or pierce his jaw with a hook?
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Will he make many supplications to you? Will he speak softly to you?
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Will he make a covenant with you? Will you take him as a servant forever?
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Will you play with him as with a bird, Or will you leash him for your maidens?
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Will your companions make a banquet of him? Will they apportion him among the merchants?
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Can you fill his skin with harpoons, Or his head with fishing spears?
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Lay your hand on him; Remember the battle-- Never do it again!
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Indeed, any hope of overcoming him is false; Shall one not be overwhelmed at the sight of him?
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No one is so fierce that he would dare stir him up. Who then is able to stand against Me?
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Who has preceded Me, that I should pay him? Everything under heaven is Mine.
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"I will not conceal his limbs, His mighty power, or his graceful proportions.
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Who can remove his outer coat? Who can approach him with a double bridle?
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Who can open the doors of his face, With his terrible teeth all around?
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His rows of scales are his pride, Shut up tightly as with a seal;
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One is so near another That no air can come between them;
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They are joined one to another, They stick together and cannot be parted.
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His sneezings flash forth light, And his eyes are like the eyelids of the morning.
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Out of his mouth go burning lights; Sparks of fire shoot out.
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Smoke goes out of his nostrils, As from a boiling pot and burning rushes.
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His breath kindles coals, And a flame goes out of his mouth.
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Strength dwells in his neck, And sorrow dances before him.
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The folds of his flesh are joined together; They are firm on him and cannot be moved.
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His heart is as hard as stone, Even as hard as the lower millstone.
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When he raises himself up, the mighty are afraid; Because of his crashings they are beside themselves.
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Though the sword reaches him, it cannot avail; Nor does spear, dart, or javelin.
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He regards iron as straw, And bronze as rotten wood.
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The arrow cannot make him flee; Slingstones become like stubble to him.
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Darts are regarded as straw; He laughs at the threat of javelins.
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His undersides are like sharp potsherds; He spreads pointed marks in the mire.
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He makes the deep boil like a pot; He makes the sea like a pot of ointment.
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He leaves a shining wake behind him; One would think the deep had white hair.
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On earth there is nothing like him, Which is made without fear.
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He beholds every high thing; He is king over all the children of pride."