18. When time shall be, she setteth up her wings on high: she scorneth the horse and his rider.
19. Wilt thou give strength to the horse, or clothe his neck with neighing?
20. Wilt thou lift him up like the locusts? the glory of his nostrils is terror.
21. He breaketh up the earth with his hoof, he pranceth boldly, he goeth forward to meet armed men.
22. He despiseth fear, he turneth not his back to the sword,