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

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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