Come, O Thou Traveler Unknown

Above:  Jacob Struggling with the Angel, from the Gutenberg Bible 

Image in the Public Domain

Text (published in 1742) by Charles Wesley (1707-1788)

Hymn Source = Robert Guy McCutchan, Our Hymnody:  A Manual of The Methodist Hymnal (1937), pages 336-337

Here we have what is, according to reputation, the finest text (original title = “Wrestling Jacob”) by Charles Wesley, one of the greatest English hymn writers.  It is certainly a fine work of literature and theology, one renowned during his lifetime and afterward.  The United Methodist Hymnal (1989) prints all 14 stanzas, with only slight alteration.  The most obvious change, dating to 1893, is in the stanza that begins with “‘Tis Love! ’tis Love!  Thou diedst for me.”  In that verse, in the original version, one reads,

To me, to all, Thy bowels move–

Thy nature and Thy name is love.

I can confirm, based on my library, that the divine bowels moved in A Collection of Hymns for Public, Social, and Domestic Worship (Methodist Episcopal Church, South, 1847;  Plymouth Collection of Hymns and Tunes for the Use of Christian Congregations (Henry Ward Beecher, 1855);  A Collection of Hymns and Tunes for Public, Social, and Domestic Worship (Methodist Episcopal Church, South, 1874); and The Presbyterian Hymnal (Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A., 1874).

Since 1893, however, as Brian Wren informs me, “Thy mercies” have moved instead.

This is a case study in changing idioms–in this case, the bowels as the seat of emotion.  One finds such language in the original texts of the Bible.  Modern Biblical translators modernize the idiom, fortunately.  We retain vestiges of the idiom in modern English usage; we speak and write of “gut feelings,” for example.  As grateful as I am for the updating of the archaic idiom for the sake of clarity, I also care about what the author wrote.  I, therefore, having access to what Wesley wrote, share it here.

Brian Wren, in his excellent and informative Praying Twice:  The Music and Words of Congregational Song (2000), cites the alteration of this hymn in Chapter Nine,

“To Me, to All, Thy Bowels Move”:  Why Do They Keep Changing the Good Old Hymns?

It is a memorable title for a thorough and critical (in the highest sense of that word) chapter.  I advise reading it.

As for this hymn and the reasons for its long-lasting reputation, I defer to the companion volume to The Methodist Hymnal (1966) for analysis:

The construction of the poem is as clear as its language is crisp, compact, and powerful.  The first 8 sts. set forth with mounting pathos the anguished cry of man–not “Who am I” but “Who art Thou?”  The last 6 with glad assurance provide the full answer, each ending with the line Thy nature and thy name is love.

–Emory Stevens Bucke, ed., Companion to the Hymnal (1970), page 150

Yet since most congregations that sing the hymn sing only a few stanzas, they will not notice the organization of the full poem.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

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 has 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 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 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 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.

+++++

The Sun of Righteousness on me

Hath rose with healing in His wings;

Wither’d my nature’s strength, from Thee

My soul its life and succor brings;

My help 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.