Robert Browning Poems
My Last Duchess
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 ...
Sing me a hero! Quench my thirst
Of soul, ye bards!
Quoth Bard the first:
'Sir Olaf, the good knight, did don
His helm, and eke his habergeon ...'
Sir Olaf and his bard——!
'That sin-scathed brow' (quoth Bard the second),
'That eye wide ope as tho' Fate beckoned