Robert Browning

(1812-1889 / London / England)

Robert Browning Poems

121. A Face 4/7/2010
122. Love In A Life 5/13/2001
123. Women And Roses 5/13/2001
124. A Wall 4/7/2010
125. Before 5/13/2001
126. Another Way Of Love 5/13/2001
127. Bishop Blougram's Apology 1/1/2004
128. Why I Am A Liberal 1/3/2003
129. By The Fire-Side 5/13/2001
130. A Grammarian's Funeral Shortly After The Revival Of Learnin 1/1/2004
131. Any Wife To Any Husband 5/13/2001
132. The Patriot 5/13/2001
133. Life In A Bottle 12/31/2002
134. Meeting At Night 5/13/2001
135. The Pied Piper Of Hamelin 5/13/2001
136. Home Thoughts, From Abroad 1/13/2003
137. A Light Woman 5/13/2001
138. Andrea Del Sarto 12/31/2002
139. Evelyn Hope 5/13/2001
140. A Lovers' Quarrel 5/13/2001
141. Childe Roland To The Dark Tower Came 5/13/2001
142. Porphyria's Lover 5/13/2001
143. After 5/13/2001
144. A Pretty Woman 5/13/2001
145. Life In A Love 5/13/2001
146. A Woman's Last Word 5/13/2001
147. My Last Duchess 5/13/2001

Comments about Robert Browning

  • Richard Tattershall (6/4/2012 3:02:00 PM)

    I always thought Browning was a man's poet. He's certainly a very special, unique one.

    96 person liked.
    92 person did not like.
  • Stephen Holbrook-sishton (12/20/2009 5:47:00 PM)

    Browning is a much-neglected poet from the Victorian era. His 'The Patriot' is totally brilliant, not to mention his 'My Last Duchess' - a GCSE text for many. Like so many other poets he lives under the shadow of Shakespeare - we read and see his material endlessly unlike that of Browning and others. But Browning knew that and wrote anyway. His unifying influence by way of poetry and pre-Freudian psychology is unmatched.

  • p.a. noushad p.a. noushad (10/31/2008 8:22:00 AM)

    true to the spirit of our life

  • Amy Klootwyk (2/28/2007 3:43:00 PM)

    Robert Browning is such a beautiful poet- poetry never interested me until I read 'My Last Duchess' and 'Porphyria's Lover'.

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

Lost Mistress, The

I.

All's over, then: does truth sound bitter
As one at first believes?
Hark, 'tis the sparrows' good-night twitter
About your cottage eaves!

II.

[Report Error]