28 The arrow will not make him flee; slingstones are turned with him into stubble.
29 Clubs are counted as stubble; he laugheth at the shaking of a javelin.
30 His under parts are sharp potsherds: he spreadeth a threshing-sledge upon the mire.
31 He maketh the deep to boil like a pot; he maketh the sea like a pot of ointment;
32 He maketh the path to shine after him: one would think the deep to be hoary.
Share this page