Wrestling Jacob
Charles Wesley
(1707-1788)

Come, O Thou Traveller unknown,
Whom still I hold, but cannot see;
My company before is gone,
And I am left alone with Thee.
With Thee all night I mean to stay
And wrestle till the break of day.

I need not tell Thee who I am,
My misery, or sin, declare;
Thyself hast call’d me by my name,
Look on Thy hand and read it there.
But who, I ask Thee, who art Thou?
Tell me Thy name, and tell me now!

In vain Thou strugglest to get free,
I never will unloose my hold;
Art Thou the Man that died for me?
The secret of Thy love unfold;
Wrestling I will not let Thee go,
Till I Thy name, Thy nature know.

Wilt Thou not yet to me reveal
Thy new, unutterable name?
Tell me, I still beseech Thee, tell,
To know it now resolv’d I am;
Wrestling I will not let Thee go
Till I Thy name, Thy nature know.

’Tis all in vain to hold Thy tongue,
Or touch the hollow of my thigh;
Though every sinew be unstrung,
Out of my arms Thou shalt not fly.
Wrestling I will not let Thee go,
Till I Thy name, Thy nature know.

What tho’ my shrinking flesh complain,
And murmur to contend so long,
I rise superior to my pain;
When I am weak then I am strong.
And when my all of strength shall fail,
I shall with the God-man prevail.

My strength is gone, my nature dies,
I sink beneath Thy weighty hand,
Faint to revive, and fall to rise;
I fall, and yet by faith I stand,
I stand, and will not let Thee go,
Till I Thy name, Thy nature know.

Yield to me now—for I am weak,
But confident in self-despair;
Speak to my heart, in blessing speak,
Be conquer’d by my instant prayer;
Speak, or Thou never hence shalt move,
And tell me if Thy name is Love.

’Tis Love, ’tis Love!  Thou diedst for me,
I hear Thy whisper in my heart.
The morning breaks, the shadows flee:
Pure universal Love Thou art;
To me, to all, Thy mercies move—
Thy nature, and Thy name is Love.

My prayer hath power with God; the grace
Unspeakable I now receive;
Thro’ faith I see Thee face to face,
I see Thee face to face, and live;
In vain I have not wept, and strove,
Thy nature, and Thy name is Love.

I know Thee, Saviour, who Thou art,
Jesus, the feeble sinner’s friend;
Nor wilt Thou with the night depart,
But stay, and love me to the end;
Thy mercies never shall remove,
Thy nature, and Thy name is Love.

The Sun of Righteousness on me
Hath ris’n with healing in His wings,
Wither’d my nature’s strength; from Thee
My soul its life and succour brings,
My help is all laid up above;
Thy nature and Thy name is Love.

Contented now upon my thigh
I halt, till life’s short journey end;
All helplessness, all weakness I,
On Thee alone for strength depend,
Nor have I power from Thee to move;
Thy nature, and Thy name is Love.

Lame as I am, I take the prey,
Hell, earth, and sin with ease o’ercome;
I leap for joy, pursue my way,
And as a bounding hart fly home,
Through all eternity to prove
Thy nature and Thy Name is Love.