I do not say that many of these songs possess much literary merit, but many of them are real lyrics:  they have that essential element, song, in them.  The following, however, is a very fine poem.  That certain expressions in it may not seem offensive, it is necessary to keep the allegory of Jacob and the Angel in full view—­even better in view, perhaps, than the writer does himself.

  WRESTLING JACOB.

  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 called me by my name: 
    Look on my hands, and read it there! 
  But who, I ask thee, who art thou? 
  Tell me thy name, and tell me now.

  In vain thou struggles! 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.

* * * * *

  What though my sinking 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 conquered by my instant[161] 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 bowels move: 
  Thy nature and thy name is Love!

  My prayer 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, 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!

* * * * *

  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.