II.
From out of the sleeve of the darkness
Was thrust an arm of strength,—
Long he wrestled for mastery,
But begged for blessing at length.
White fear fell on him at dawn,
As the Nameless spake with him then;
"Prevailer and Prince," called He him,
"A power with God and with men."
And, alone, the lame wrestler mused:
"The Face of God is this place!
Ah me—and my life is preserved,
Yet God have I seen face to face!"