Perhaps, whilst wandering in the weald, you spot a scribbled scrap of script on bark, stone or parchment.   Perhaps, whilst pondering the sea and its thousand white horses, a left-behind campfire safely secluded in the curve of the cliff face catches your eye, and soon you are reading forgotten memoirs by renewed firelight.   Perhaps, whilst praying to the gods, a chanted, a sung, a lilting phrase of poetry comes floating by on the wind, though you hear no footsteps, and see