Is my strength the strength of rock? Is my flesh bronze?
“How you have helped the powerless! How you have saved the arm without strength!
His bones are tubes of bronze; His limbs like rods of iron.
He leaves a shining wake behind him; one would think the deep had white hair.
“What is my strength, that I should hope? What is my end, that I should endure?
Is there no help within me; has not success been banished from me?
