In his neck abides strength, and terror dances before him.
I shall ransom them from the power of Sheol; I shall redeem them from Death. O Death, where are your plagues? O Sheol, where is your sting? Compassion is hidden from my eyes.
Behold, his strength in his loins, and his power in the muscles of his belly.
“Do you give the horse his might? Do you clothe his neck with a mane?
His breath kindles coals, and a flame comes forth from his mouth.
The folds of his flesh stick together, firmly cast on him and immovable.