Tell me thy name, thou wrestler in the night, Silent, cruel-sinewed, unbeheld of sight, Ere another day bid my reason wake, Ere the morning break! Long we heave and strain, grip and slip and hold, Struggling hard and lithe, warring from of old; And thy greater strength strives unwearyingly. Tell thy name to me! Nay, thou hast me not! Yet a little space, I can force thy hold, I shall see thy face. Yet -- the vantage slips. Loud my pulses beat With foredoomed defeat. Tell me thy name, wrestler great and bright, Labouring heart to heart through this heavy night! As when Israel's foe touched and scarred his thigh, Wrenched at grips am I. Silence. Shuddering breath. Graspings swift and blind. All life's mystery grappling with the mind. Peniel's silent power -- Man's long fierce despite -- Wrestling through the night! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A WINTER NIGHT by SARA TEASDALE SOUTH WIND by SIEGFRIED SASSOON THE MOTHER'S LAMENT by ST. CLAIR ADAMS THE BEAUTIFUL BEESHAREEN BOY by MATHILDE BLIND A WEDDING MARCH by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT DEPARTURE OF THE PIONEER by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD A SONG FOR THE RAGGED SCHOOLS OF LONDON; WRITTEN IN ROME by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |