1Canst thou draw forth the crocodile with a hook, Or press down his tongue with a cord?
2Canst thou put a rope into his nose, Or pierce his cheek with a hook?
3Will he make many entreaties to thee? Will he speak soft words to thee?
4Will he make a covenant with thee? Canst thou take him for a servant for ever?
5Canst thou play with him, as with a bird? Or canst thou bind him for thy maidens?
6Do men in company lay snares for him? Do they divide him among the merchants?
7Canst thou fill his skirt with barbed irons, Or his head with fish-spears?
8Do but lay thy hand upon him,—Thou wilt no more think of battle!
9Behold, his hope is vain! Is he not cast down at the very sight of him?
10None is so fierce that he dare stir him up; Who then is he that can stand before me?
11Who hath done me a favor, that I must repay him? Whatever is under the whole heaven is mine.
12I will not be silent concerning his limbs, And his strength, and the beauty of his armor.
13Who can uncover the surface of his garment? Who will approach his jaws?
14Who will open the doors of his face? The rows of his teeth are terrible!
15His glory is his strong shields, United with each other, as with a close seal.
16They are joined one to another, So that no air can come between them.
17They cleave fast to each other, They hold together, and cannot be separated.
18His sneezing sendeth forth light, And his eyes are like the eyelashes of the morning.
19Out of his mouth go flames, And sparks of fire leap forth.
20From his nostrils issueth smoke, as from a heated pot, or caldron.
21His breath kindleth coals, And flames issue from his mouth.
22In his neck dwelleth strength, And terror danceth before him.
23The flakes of his flesh cleave fast together; They are firm upon him, and cannot be moved.
24His heart is solid like a stone; Yea, solid like the nether millstone.
25When he riseth up, the mighty are afraid; Yea, they lose themselves for terror.
26The sword of him that assaileth him doth not stand, The spear, the dart, nor the habergeon.
27He regardeth iron as straw, And brass as rotten wood.
28The arrow cannot make him flee; Sling-stones to him become stubble;
29Clubs are accounted by him as straw; He laugheth at the shaking of the spear.
30Under him are sharp potsherds; He spreadeth out a thrashing-sledge upon the mire.
31He maketh the deep to boil like a caldron; He maketh the sea like a pot of ointment.
32Behind him he leaveth a shining path; One would think the deep to be hoary.
33Upon the earth there is not his master; He is made without fear.
34He looketh down upon all that is high; He is king over all the sons of pride.