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Job 41

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

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Job 41: DARBY

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