1Canst thou drawoutleviathanwithafishhook?Orpress downhistonguewithacord? 2Canst thou putarope intohisnose?Orpiercehisjawthroughwithahook? 3Willhemake many supplications unto thee?Orwillhespeak soft words unto thee? 4Willhemakeacovenantwiththee,Thatthou shouldest take himforaservantforever? 5Wilt thou playwithhimaswithabird?Orwilt thou bindhimforthy maidens? 6Willthebandsoffishermen make trafficofhim?Willtheyparthimamongthemerchants? 7Canst thou fillhisskin with barbed irons, Orhishead with fish-spears? 8Lay thy handuponhim; Rememberthebattle,anddosonomore. 9Behold,thehopeofhimisinvain:WillnotoneH376becast downevenatthesightofhim? 10Noneisso fiercethathe dare stir him up; Who thenishethatcanstandbeforeme? 11Whohath first given untome,thatIshouldrepayhim? Whatsoeverisunderthewhole heavenismine. 12Iwillnot keep silence concerninghislimbs, Norhismighty strength, norhisgoodly frame. 13Whocan stripoffhisouter garment?WhoshallcomeH3318withinhisjaws? 14Who canopenthedoorsofhisfaceH6440? Round abouthisteethisterror. 15Hisstrongscalesarehispride, Shutuptogetheraswithacloseseal. 16Oneissoneartoanother,Thatno air can come between them. 17They are joinedonetoanother; They stick together, so that they cannot be sundered. 18Hissneezings flash forth light,Andhiseyes are liketheeyelidsofthemorning. 19Outofhismouth go burning torches,Andsparksoffire leap forth. 20Outofhisnostrilsasmoke goeth,Asofaboiling potandburning rushes. 21Hisbreath kindleth coals,Andaflame goeth forth fromhismouth. 22Inhisneck abideth strength,Andterror dancethbeforehim. 23Theflakesofhisflesh are joinedtogether:Theyare firmuponhim;theycannotbemoved. 24Hisheartisasfirmasastone; Yea, firmasthenether millstone. 25Whenheraiseth himselfup,themightyareafraid:Byreasonofconsternationtheyarebesidethemselves. 26Ifonelayathimwiththesword,itcannot avail; Northespear,thedart, northepointed 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. 34He beholdeth everything that is high: He is king over all the sons of pride. American Standard Version — 1901 — Public Domain
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