Then wilt I also confess of thee That thine own right hand can save thee
For while we were yet weak, in due season Christ died for the ungodly.
He giveth power to the faint; and to him that hath no might he increaseth strength.
For I will not trust in my bow, Neither shall my sword save me.
For they gat not the land in possession by their own sword, Neither did their own arm save them: But thy right hand, and thine arm, and the light of thy countenance, Because thou hadst a favour unto them.
Hide them in the dust together; Bind their faces in the hidden place.
Behold now behemoth, which I made with thee; He eateth grass as all ox.