He mocketh at fear, and is not affrighted; Neither turneth he back from the sword.
Upon earth there is not his like, Who is made without fear.
What time she lifteth up herself on high, She scorneth the horse and his rider.
She is hardened against her young ones, as though they were not her's: Her labour is in vain without fear;
He paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in his strength: He goeth on to meet the armed men.
The quiver rattleth against him, The glittering spear and the shield.
the noise of a whip, and the noise of the rattling of the wheels, and of the pransing horses, and of the jumping chariots.