Journeyed this Puritan youth to the Holy Land of his longings,
Urged by the fervor of love, and [withheld by remorseful misgivings].
THE MARCH OF MILES STANDISH
Meanwhile the stalwart Miles Standish was marching steadily northward,
Winding through forest and swamp, and along the trend of the seashore,
All day long, with hardly a halt, the fire of his anger
Burning and crackling within, and the sulphurous odor of powder
Seeming more sweet to his nostrils than all the scents of the forest.
Silent and moody he went, and much he revolved his discomfort;
He who was used to success, and to easy victories always,