Look at the Behemoth,
That God has also made;
Larger than a mammoth,
Its size makes you afraid.
It eats grass like cattle,
Strength in its muscles;
And ready for battle,
For possible tussles.
A tail stiff like cedar,
Ligaments of its thighs;
A natural leader,
All because of its size.
Its bones are like bronze pipes,
And are like iron bars;
Its horns having black stripes,
And eyes twinkle like stars.
Behemoth is the first,
That God had a conquest;
Water satisfies thirst,
When tired it will rest.
Its Maker approaches,
And carrying His sword;
To tame as He coaches,
To be in one accord.
The mountains bring it food,
Where the animals play;
The beast in a good mood,
No desire to stray.
It lies down with flowers,
A swampy hiding place;
Sleeping through the hours,
As God giving His grace.
Poplars surround the stream,
The mighty river flows;
As tranquil as to seem,
For God already knows.
Can someone blind its eyes?
Or pierce its nose with snares;
To slay it where it lies,
The courage that one dares.
Copyright © 2017 Richard Newton Sherrer