Robert Browning

(1812-1889 / London / England)

Robert Browning Poems

121. Prospice 12/31/2002
122. In Three Days 5/13/2001
123. A Face 4/7/2010
124. The Year's At The Spring 1/3/2003
125. Bishop Blougram's Apology 1/1/2004
126. A Wall 4/7/2010
127. Rabbi Ben Ezra 5/13/2001
128. Another Way Of Love 5/13/2001
129. Andrea Del Sarto 12/31/2002
130. A Grammarian's Funeral Shortly After The Revival Of Learnin 1/1/2004
131. The Pied Piper Of Hamelin 5/13/2001
132. The Patriot 5/13/2001
133. Meeting At Night 5/13/2001
134. Why I Am A Liberal 1/3/2003
135. Women And Roses 5/13/2001
136. Evelyn Hope 5/13/2001
137. Home Thoughts, From Abroad 1/13/2003
138. Any Wife To Any Husband 5/13/2001
139. A Light Woman 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

The Lost Leader

I.

Just for a handful of silver he left us,
Just for a riband to stick in his coat---
Found the one gift of which fortune bereft us,
Lost all the others she lets us devote;
They, with the gold to give, doled him out silver,
So much was theirs who so little allowed:
How all our copper had gone for his service!

[Report Error]