Robert Browning

(1812-1889 / London / England)

Robert Browning Poems

121. The Heretic's Tragedy 5/13/2001
122. The Italian In England 5/13/2001
123. The Laboratory 5/13/2001
124. The Laboratory-Ancien Régime 1/1/2004
125. The Last Ride Together 5/13/2001
126. The Lost Leader 5/13/2001
127. The Lost Mistress 5/13/2001
128. The Patriot 5/13/2001
129. The Pied Piper Of Hamelin 5/13/2001
130. The Statue And The Bust 1/3/2003
131. The Twins 5/13/2001
132. The Wanderers 1/4/2003
133. The Year's At The Spring 1/3/2003
134. Through The Metidja To Abd-El-Kadr 5/13/2001
135. Thus The Mayne Glideth 1/4/2003
136. Time's Revenges 5/13/2001
137. To Edward Fitzgerald 12/31/2002
138. Tray 5/27/2015
139. Twins, The 12/31/2002
140. Two In The Campagna 5/13/2001
141. Up At A Villa--Down In The City 1/1/2004
142. Verse-Making Was Least Of My Virtues 1/3/2003
143. Waring 5/13/2001
144. Why I Am A Liberal 1/3/2003
145. Women And Roses 5/13/2001
146. You'Ll Love Me Yet 1/3/2003
147. Youth And Art 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

Pheidippides

First I salute this soil of the blessed, river and rock!
Gods of my birthplace, dæmons and heroes, honour to all!
Then I name thee, claim thee for our patron, co-equal in praise
Ay, with Zeus the Defender, with Her of the ægis and spear!
Also, ye of the bow and the buskin, praised be your peer,
Now, henceforth, and forever,—O latest to whom I upraise
Hand and heart and voice! For Athens, leave pasture and flock!
Present to help, potent to save, Pan—patron I call!

[Hata Bildir]