The generous trust Paul staked upon him found Philemon worthy, or him worthy made. At first he frowned on his returning slave, Who shrank before him, conscious of his fault. But in the truth and secret of their hearts, Master and bondman toward each other yearned. Either remembered what before had been, The wont of mutual human-heartedness Which, between such as they, could not but spring To blossom in kind offices exchanged To make the bond of master and of slave Unnatural though it was yet tolerable. Philemon, less in anger and despite Than in love disappointed and aggrieved, Was ready to burst out upon the youth In loud upbraidings of his gracelessness To have made his master such return for all The kindness he had tasted in his house; Whereto Onesimus would have replied With protestations of his penitence And tears of promise never to offend Again a master so magnanimous; But when Philemon broke the letter's seal And read what Paul had written, his eyes swam And his heart melted and he flung his arms Wide to embrace his slave and welcome him With kisses of a brother to his breast; And they twain wept together happy tears Of equal love and heavenly gratitude, And fell upon their knees before the Lord And poured out all their soul in fervent prayer For Paul through whom their blessing came to them. Soon after, from Philemon charged with gifts To Paul and many messages of love, Onesimus went joyful back to Rome To serve his master there by serving Paul. He faithfully rehearsed to Syrus all That at Colossæ chanced to him, and said: "Paul never told me that he knew my lord, That therefore I might trust him all in all. He must have wished to put me so to proof What naked peril I would dare for Christ. I tremble when I think: 'If I had failed In faith and in obedience to Paul's word! Had I not made the venture to go back! What had I lost on earth, perhaps in heaven!' But I am glad the venture was so sheer, Since I at last went back in spite of doubt. But, know, my heart beat thick against my ribs, When I was on the brink to meet him first, My master--for in truth I had wrought him wrong. But, Syrus, what thinkest thou my master did? Thou hast never, I suppose, beheld a slave Wept over by his master as in love, And like an equal drawn unto his breast And kissed. But so my master did to me. For he too was disciple, like myself, And Paul erst won him to discipleship; And thus we twain were brethren in the Lord. And _he_ was tried and found not wanting too! And here am I in Rome, no runaway, But hither by Philemon's wishes sped To be a happy minister to Paul."