Lyrics
Come, O Thou Traveler 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 called me by my name;
Look on Thy hands, 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 resolved 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 were unstrung,
Out of my arms Thou shalt not fly;
Wrestling, I will not let Thee go,
Till I Thy name, Thy nature know.
What though 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 blessings 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 passions move;
Thy nature and Thy name is Love.
My pray'r hath power with God; the grace
Unspeakable I now receive,
Through 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, Savior, 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 rose, with healing in His wings;
Withered my nature's strength, from Thee
My soul its life and comfort 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.
Public domain hymn text (1742). Words by Charles Wesley. Full 14-stanza text of 'Wrestling Jacob.'
The Story Behind the Hymn
Charles Wesley wrote 'Come, O Thou Traveler Unknown,' often called 'Wrestling Jacob,' in 1742, basing the hymn directly on Genesis 32, in which the patriarch Jacob wrestles through the night with a mysterious figure by the ford of the Jabbok before finally receiving a blessing and a new name, Israel.
The hymn's opening line captures the scene's central strangeness immediately, addressing a figure who can be 'held' but not 'seen,' preserving Genesis's own refusal to fully identify the wrestler until deep into the encounter.
Rather than narrating the story from a distance, Wesley writes the entire hymn in the first person, as though the singer is Jacob himself, wrestling through the same long night and refusing, in the same defiant words, to let go 'till the break of day.'
That choice turns an ancient, singular narrative into something each singer is invited to inhabit directly, treating Jacob's specific, dramatic struggle as a pattern for the believer's own persistent, unresolved wrestling with God.
John Wesley, Charles's brother and closest collaborator, reportedly called this his favorite among all his brother's hymns, remarking that he thought it worth more than all the verse he himself had ever written, a striking claim given John's own considerable output.
The hymn was recognized by later literary figures well outside hymnody for its unusual poetic intensity, including the poet Isaac Watts, who is said to have remarked that the hymn alone was worth all the verses he had personally written.
Its refusal to resolve quickly, stretching the unanswered question 'who art Thou?' across many verses before any resolution arrives, gives the hymn an unusual dramatic patience, letting the struggle itself, rather than its quick conclusion, occupy most of the singer's attention.
