Robert Browning

(1812-1889 / London / England)

Robert Browning Poems

41. Confessions 12/31/2002
42. Count Gismond--Aix In Provence 1/1/2004
43. Cristina 5/13/2001
44. De Gustibus--- 5/13/2001
45. Earth's Immortalities 5/13/2001
46. Easter-Day 4/7/2010
47. Englishman In Italy, The 12/31/2002
48. Epilogue 12/31/2002
49. Epilogue To Asolando 1/13/2003
50. Evelyn Hope 5/13/2001
51. Fears And Scruples 4/7/2010
52. Flight Of The Duchess, The 12/31/2002
53. From ‘paracelsus’ 1/1/2004
54. From 'Pauline' 1/1/2004
55. Garden Francies 5/13/2001
56. Glove, The 12/31/2002
57. Guardian-Angel, The 12/31/2002
58. Heap Cassia, Sandal-Buds And Stripes 1/3/2003
59. Heretic's Tragedy, The 12/31/2002
60. Herve Riel 4/7/2010
61. Holy-Cross Day 5/13/2001
62. Home Thoughts, From Abroad 1/13/2003
63. Home Thoughts, From The Sea 1/3/2003
64. How It Strikes a Contemporary 6/8/2015
65. How They Brought The Good News From Ghent To Aix 5/13/2001
66. In A Gondola 5/13/2001
67. In A Year 5/13/2001
68. In Three Days 5/13/2001
69. Incident Of The French Camp 5/13/2001
70. Instans Tyrannus 5/13/2001
71. Introduction: Pippa Passes 4/7/2010
72. Italian In England, The 12/31/2002
73. Laboratory, The 12/31/2002
74. Last Ride Together, The 12/31/2002
75. Life In A Bottle 12/31/2002
76. Life In A Love 5/13/2001
77. Lost Leader, The 12/31/2002
78. Lost Mistress, The 12/31/2002
79. Love Among The Ruins 5/13/2001
80. Love Among The Ruins 4/7/2010
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

The Lost Leader

I.

Just for a handful of silver he left us,
Just for a riband to stick in his coat---
Found the one gift of which fortune bereft us,
Lost all the others she lets us devote;
They, with the gold to give, doled him out silver,
So much was theirs who so little allowed:
How all our copper had gone for his service!

[Hata Bildir]