It differed greatly from their own, they said;
Their anger kindled, and, with speech unkind,
They drove me from my family and home,
An exile in this dreadful storm to roam.
“And now, my brother, through the wilds I go,
To seek some far—some lone sequestered glen—
Where burning fagot nevermore shall glow,
Fired by the wrath of persecuting men;
Where all may worship, as their gods they know,