25 When he raiseth himself up, the mighty are afraid: by reason of consternation they are beside themselves.
26 If one lay at him with the sword, it cannot avail; nor the spear, the dart, nor the pointed shaft.
27 He counteth iron as straw, and brass as rotten wood.
28 The arrow cannot make him flee: slingstones are turned with him into stubble.
29 Clubs are counted as stubble: he laugheth at the rushing of the javelin.
30 His underparts are like sharp potsherds: he spreadeth as it were a threshing wain upon the mire.
31 He maketh the deep to boil like a pot: he maketh the sea like ointment.