Strength dwells in his neck, and fear leaps before him.
Have you given the horse strength? Have you covered his neck with a mane?
See now, his strength is in his loins, and his power is in his stomach muscles.
His breath sets coals on fire, and a flame goes out of his mouth.
The folds of his flesh cleave together. They are firm on him, immovable.
“From the power of the grave I ransom them, from death I redeem them. Where is your plague, O Death? Where is your destruction, O Grave? Repentance is hidden from My eyes.
