Strength resides in his neck, and dismay dances before him.
I will ransom them from the power of Sheol. I will redeem them from death. Death, where are your barbs? Sheol, where is your sting? Compassion is hidden from my eyes.
Look at the strength of his back and the power in the muscles of his belly.
Do you give strength to the horse? Do you adorn his neck with a mane?
His breath sets coals ablaze, and flames pour out of his mouth.
The folds of his flesh are joined together, solid as metal and immovable.
