Strength dwells in his neck, and fear leaps before him.
“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.
See now, his strength is in his loins, and his power is in his stomach muscles.
Have you given the horse strength? Have you covered his neck with a mane?
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.
