² The sound of a whip, And the sound of the rattling of a wheel, And of a prancing horse, and of a bounding chariot, Of a horseman mounting.

³ From the sound of the stamping of the hoofs of his mighty ones, From the rushing of his chariot, the noise of his wheels, Fathers have not turned unto sons, From feebleness of hands,

²² Then broken were the horse-heels, By pransings -- pransings of its mighty ones.

²² He laugheth at fear, and is not affrighted, And he turneth not back from the face of the sword.

²³ Against him rattle doth quiver, The flame of a spear, and a halbert.

²⁴ With trembling and rage he swalloweth the ground, And remaineth not stedfast Because of the sound of a trumpet.

²⁵ Among the trumpets he saith, Aha, And from afar he doth smell battle, Roaring of princes and shouting.

³ The shield of his mighty ones is become red, Men of might `are in' scarlet, With fiery torches `is' the chariot in a day of his preparation, And the firs have been caused to tremble.

⁴ In out-places shine do the chariots, They go to and fro in broad places, Their appearances `are' like torches, As lightnings they run.

⁵ For every battle of a warrior `is' with rushing, and raiment rolled in blood, And it hath been for burning -- fuel of fire.