Treasure Island

Robert Browning

(1812-1889 / London / England)

Previous Month April 2014 Next Month
Mo Tu We Th Fr Sa Su
31 1 2 3 4 5 6
7 8 9 10 11 12 13
14 15 16 17 18 19 20
21 22 23 24 25 26 27
28 29 30 1 2 3 4
Poem of the Day
Select a day from the calendar.
Would you like to see the poem of the day in your e-mail box every morning?
Your email address:
  Subscribe FREE
  Unsubscribe

A Pretty Woman


That fawn-skin-dappled hair of hers,
And the blue eye
Dear and dewy,
........................
........................
read full text »


Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Comments about this poem (A Pretty Woman by Robert Browning )

Enter the verification code :

  • Is It Poetry (4/22/2013 11:11:00 AM)

    To hear an echo
    from the past - forever blasts.
    When cherry blosoms,
    never picked.
    Forever seem to last.....iip (Report) Reply

  • Juan Olivarez (4/22/2011 8:24:00 AM)

    I've always had some contempt for this work it seems so beneath the great works of Browning, so average if you will. (Report) Reply

  • Ramesh T A (4/22/2010 1:58:00 AM)

    After the romantic poets like Wordsworth, Coleridge, Shelley and John Keats, the poet remains fresh in mind is Robert Browning only! This poem is just one piece to say his name but other poems of his are better than this! It is just like 'heard melodies are sweet but unheard melodies are sweeter! ' (Report) Reply

  • Kevin Straw (4/22/2009 6:43:00 AM)

    Browning's prosodic affectations have always annoyed me. He makes it difficult to read his work. (Report) Reply

  • Michael Harmon (4/22/2009 1:14:00 AM)

    Browning, along with Tennyson and Matthew Arnold, is considered one of the great Victorian-era poets of the English language. I took a class on this subject, and though I did not read all of his dramatic monologues (or other works) , I have a hunch this particular piece would not have been selected to be studied. I couldn't finish it either. Where's My Last Duchess? (Report) Reply

  • Joseph Poewhit (4/22/2009 12:17:00 AM)

    Speaks well of an earlier era of time. Where a woman was praised and placed on a pedestal. Not as today, a cheap object for a fast fling. It is more respect for a woman. Though the same inner lusts existed, they had a dog leash attached to them. How moral decay, has come upon people today, for a few gold coins. Church was the center of life, not the BIG MOM TV. (Report) Reply

  • Emily Gnitt (4/22/2008 10:53:00 PM)

    it is a good detailed poem but i lost interest in it because it was too long and well i would give this a 7.5/10 (Report) Reply

  • Mark Nwagwu (4/22/2008 12:26:00 PM)

    a prettywoman - elicited all sorts of thoughts in me, some of which I could not hold on to. Al last managed to hang on to the beginning and the end and a few in-betweens -
    infantine fresh air of hers
    men can only keep what they make you (for which you are not responsible)
    all the face composed of flowers
    so we leave the swee face fondly there
    just perfection, whence rejection
    precious meatls ape petals

    Tells me I'm mere metal aping her petal
    she is truly comething else - prety woman
    must you gather -no, no, not this pretty woman; gave this 7 (Report) Reply

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

New Poems

  1. I Seen, Jose Torres Junior
  2. I Seen..., Jose Torres Junior
  3. Duet, John deVries
  4. Chuh, John deVries
  5. Blurry, Jose Armando Guzman
  6. Salome (Rubiyat sonnet), Gert Strydom
  7. See everything pure, gajanan mishra
  8. When I hold you tightly against me, Gert Strydom
  9. the gramophone record, Somanathan Iyer
  10. the idiot box, Somanathan Iyer

Poem of the Day

poet Henry David Thoreau

My books I'd fain cast off, I cannot read,
'Twixt every page my thoughts go stray at large
Down in the meadow, where is richer feed,
And will not mind to hit their proper targe.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]