Job 41:20–33

²⁰Out of his nostrils a smoke goeth,

As of a boiling pot and burning rushes.

²¹His breath kindleth coals,

And a flame goeth forth from his mouth.

²²In his neck abideth strength,

And terror danceth 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 raiseth himself up, the mighty are afraid:

By reason of consternation they are beside themselves.

²⁶If one lay at him with the sword, it cannot avail;

Nor the spear, the dart, nor the pointed shaft.

²⁷He counteth iron as straw,

And brass as rotten wood.

²⁸The arrow cannot make him flee:

Sling-stones are turned with him into stubble.

²⁹Clubs are counted as stubble:

He laugheth at the rushing of the javelin.

³⁰His underparts are like sharp potsherds:

He spreadeth as it were a threshing-wain upon the mire.

³¹He maketh the deep to boil like a pot:

He maketh the sea like a pot of ointment.

³²He maketh a path to shine after him;

One would think the deep to be hoary.

³³Upon earth there is not his like,

That is made without fear.