Memorabilia by Robert Browning — Read

Ah, did you once see Shelley plain, / And did he stop and speak to you, / And did you speak to him again? / How strange it seems and new!

But you were living before that, / And also you are living after; / And the memory I started at -- / My starting moves your laughter!

I crossed a moor, with a name of its own / And a certain use in the world no doubt, / Yet a hand's-breadth of it shines alone / 'Mid the blank miles round about:

For there I picked up on the heather, / And there I put inside my breast / A moulted feather, an eagle-feather! / Well, I forget the rest.