Abt Volger By Robert Browning

Abt Volger (after he has been extemporizing upon the musical instrument of his invention) Would that the structure brave, the manifold music …

Pippa’s Song By Robert Browning

Pippa’s Song The year’s at the spring, And day’s at the morn; Morning’s at seven; The hill-side’s dew-pearl’d; The lark’s on the …

Apparitions By Robert Browning

Apparitions (_Prologue to ‘The Two Poets of Croisic.’_) Such a starved bank of moss Till, that May-morn, Blue ran the flash across: …

After By Robert Browning

After Take the cloak from his face, and at first Let the corpse do its worst! How he lies in his rights …

Apparent Failure By Robert Browning

Apparent Failure ‘We shall soon lose a celebrated building.’ –_Paris Newspaper_. No, for I’ll save it! Seven years since I passed through …

A Face By Robert Browning

A Face If one could have that little head of hers Painted upon a background of pure gold, Such as the Tuscan’s …

Herve Riel By Robert Browning

Herve Riel On the sea and at the Hogue, sixteen hundred ninety two, Did the English fight the French,–woe to France! And, …

Prospice By Robert Browning

Prospice Fear death?—to feel the fog in my throat, The mist in my face, When the snows begin, and the blasts denote …

Tray By Robert Browning

Tray Sing me a hero! Quench my thirst Of soul, ye bards! Quoth Bard the first: ‘Sir Olaf, the good knight, did …