Robert Browning

(1812-1889 / London / England)

Robert Browning Poems

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

[Hata Bildir]