His breath kindles coals, and a flame goes out of his mouth.
A smoke went up out of His nostrils, and fire devoured out of His mouth; coals were kindled by it.
A plague went before Him, and lightning went forth at His feet.
For Tophet is ordained of old; yea, for the king it is prepared. He has made it deep and large. He makes great with fire and wood. The breath of Jehovah kindles it, like a torrent of brimstone.
At the brightness before Him, His dark clouds passed through, hailstones and coals of fire passed.
Out of his nostrils goes smoke, as out of a boiling pot fired by reeds.
In his neck remains strength, and terror dances before him.
The grass withers, the flower fades, because the Spirit of Jehovah blows on it; surely the people is grass.