Robert Browning

(1812-1889 / London / England)

Robert Browning
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The son of Robert Browning, a Bank of England clerk, and Sarah Anna Wiedemann, of Scottish-German descent, Browning received little formal education. His learning was gleaned mainly from his Father's library at home in Camberwell, South London, where he learnt something, with his Father's help, of Latin and Greek and also read Shelly, Byron and Keats. Though he attended lectures at the University of London in 1828, Browning left after only one session.

Apart from a visit to St Petersburg in 1834 and two visits to Italy in 1838 and 1844, Browning lived with his parents in London until his marriage of 1846. It was during this period that most of the plays and the earlier poems were ... more »

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  • ''You called me, and I came home to your heart.''
    Robert Browning (1812-1889), British poet. Andrea del Sarto (l. 171). . . Oxford Anthology of English Literature, The, Vols. I-II. Frank Kermode a...
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Comments about Robert Browning

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  • Fortnite swet (5/23/2018 7:12:00 AM)

    RIP dusty depo

  • Fortnite swet (5/23/2018 7:09:00 AM)

    RIP dusty depo

  • LOL. Funny (5/23/2018 7:07:00 AM)


  • LOL shdjjjdjdjjdhdhhdidjehdhddhd (5/23/2018 7:05:00 AM)


  • moisty mire (5/23/2018 6:50:00 AM)

    im gonna slip inside you and your home the bush!

  • your mums a bush (5/23/2018 6:31:00 AM)

    I live in her

  • Uganda knuckles (5/17/2018 8:35:00 AM)

    Do u no da wei do you no da wey do uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu no da wei

  • Russ Weiss (4/14/2018 11:25:00 AM)

    One of his masterpieces of dramatic monologue. The duke reveals his cruel narcissism and amoral aesthetics- but obviously doesn't give a what we think of him.

  • Lesley (2/1/2018 3:49:00 PM)

    Your poems are so inspirational

  • John Tower (1/24/2018 11:08:00 AM)

    The man in black fled across the desert and the gunslinger followed.

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Best Poem of Robert Browning

My Last Duchess


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
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