Robert Browning

(1812-1889 / London / England)

Robert Browning Poems

1. Tray 5/27/2015
2. Bad Dreams: I 5/28/2015
3. Bad Dreams: III 5/28/2015
4. Pheidippides 12/10/2015
5. The Lady and the Painter 3/1/2016
6. How It Strikes a Contemporary 6/8/2015
7. Herve Riel 4/7/2010
8. Introduction: Pippa Passes 4/7/2010
9. Fears And Scruples 4/7/2010
10. Christmas-Eve 4/7/2010
11. O' Lyric Love 4/7/2010
12. Heap Cassia, Sandal-Buds And Stripes 1/3/2003
13. Natural Magic 4/7/2010
14. Easter-Day 4/7/2010
15. One Word More 4/7/2010
16. The Heretic's Tragedy 5/13/2001
17. Thus The Mayne Glideth 1/4/2003
18. Cavalier Tunes: Give A Rouse 1/1/2004
19. Cavalier Tunes: Boot And Saddle 1/1/2004
20. The Englishman In Italy 5/13/2001
21. Through The Metidja To Abd-El-Kadr 5/13/2001
22. Song From 'Paracelsus' 1/4/2003
23. Cavalier Tunes: Marching Along 1/1/2004
24. Love Among The Ruins 4/7/2010
25. The Confessional 5/13/2001
26. Holy-Cross Day 5/13/2001
27. Over The Sea Our Galleys Went 1/1/2004
28. Master Hugues Of Saxe-Gotha 5/13/2001
29. The Guardian-Angel 5/13/2001
30. Apparitions 4/7/2010
31. A Cavalier Song 4/7/2010
32. To Edward Fitzgerald 12/31/2002
33. The Glove 5/13/2001
34. Count Gismond--Aix In Provence 1/1/2004
35. Garden Francies 5/13/2001
36. The Italian In England 5/13/2001
37. Waring 5/13/2001
38. Cavalier Tunes 5/13/2001
39. Up At A Villa--Down In The City 1/1/2004
40. In A Gondola 5/13/2001
Best Poem of Robert Browning

My Last Duchess

FERRARA.

That's my last Duchess painted on the wall,
Looking as if she were alive. I call
That piece a wonder, now: Fr Pandolf's hands
Worked busily a day, and there she stands.
Will't please you sit and look at her? I said
``Fr Pandolf'' by design, for never read
Strangers like you that pictured countenance,
The depth and passion of its earnest glance,
But to myself they turned (since none puts by
The curtain I have drawn for you, but I)
And seemed as they would ask me, if they durst,
How such a glance came there; so, not the first
Are you to turn ...

Read the full of My Last Duchess

Lost Mistress, The

I.

All's over, then: does truth sound bitter
As one at first believes?
Hark, 'tis the sparrows' good-night twitter
About your cottage eaves!

II.

[Report Error]