She is hardened against her young ones, as though they were not her's: Her labour is in vain without fear; Because God hath deprived her of wisdom, Neither hath he imparted to her understanding. What time she lifteth up herself on high, She scorneth the horse and his rider. Hast thou given the horse strength? Hast thou clothed his neck with thunder? Canst thou make him afraid as a grasshopper? The glory of his nostrils is terrible. He paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in his strength: He goeth on to meet the armed men.
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