“Who wrought my studious numbers Smoothly once in happier days, Now perforce in tears and sadness Learn a mournful strain to raise. Lo, the Muses, grief-dishevelled, Guide my pen and voice my woe; Down their cheeks unfeigned the tear drops To my sad complainings flow! These alone in danger’s hour Faithful found, have dared attend On the footsteps of the exile To his lonely journey’s end.”   This book is a dialog, a poem, a religious and philosophical treatise, and kind of a fantasy novel […]