Robert Browning

(1812-1889 / London / England)

Robert Browning Poems

121. The Heretic's Tragedy 5/13/2001
122. The Italian In England 5/13/2001
123. The Laboratory 5/13/2001
124. The Laboratory-Ancien Régime 1/1/2004
125. The Last Ride Together 5/13/2001
126. The Lost Leader 5/13/2001
127. The Lost Mistress 5/13/2001
128. The Patriot 5/13/2001
129. The Pied Piper Of Hamelin 5/13/2001
130. The Statue And The Bust 1/3/2003
131. The Twins 5/13/2001
132. The Wanderers 1/4/2003
133. The Year's At The Spring 1/3/2003
134. Through The Metidja To Abd-El-Kadr 5/13/2001
135. Thus The Mayne Glideth 1/4/2003
136. Time's Revenges 5/13/2001
137. To Edward Fitzgerald 12/31/2002
138. Twins, The 12/31/2002
139. Two In The Campagna 5/13/2001
140. Up At A Villa--Down In The City 1/1/2004
141. Verse-Making Was Least Of My Virtues 1/3/2003
142. Waring 5/13/2001
143. Why I Am A Liberal 1/3/2003
144. Women And Roses 5/13/2001
145. You'Ll Love Me Yet 1/3/2003
146. Youth And Art 5/13/2001
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!

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