18 At the time on high she lifteth herself up, She laugheth at the horse and at his rider.
19 Dost thou give to the horse might? Dost thou clothe his neck 'with' a mane?
20 Dost thou cause him to rush as a locust? The majesty of his snorting 'is' terrible.
21 They dig in a valley, and he rejoiceth in power, He goeth forth to meet the armour.
22 He laugheth at fear, and is not affrighted, And he turneth not back from the face of the sword.
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