Robert Browning

(1812-1889 / London / England)

Robert Browning Poems

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

Laboratory, The

ANCIEN RGIME.

I.

Now that I, tying thy glass mask tightly,
May gaze thro' these faint smokes curling whitely,
As thou pliest thy trade in this devil's-smithy---
Which is the poison to poison her, prithee?

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