Free online greeting card maker or poetry art generator. Create free custom printable greeting cards or art from photos and text online. Use PoetrySoup's free online software to make greeting cards from poems, quotes, or your own words. Generate memes, cards, or poetry art for any occasion; weddings, anniversaries, holidays, etc (See examples here). Make a card to show your loved one how special they are to you. Once you make a card, you can email it, download it, or share it with others on your favorite social network site like Facebook. Also, you can create shareable and downloadable cards from poetry on PoetrySoup. Use our poetry search engine to find the perfect poem, and then click the camera icon to create the card or art.
Enter Title (Not Required)
Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required 'MIDST the noise of merriment and glee, 'Midst full many a sorrow, many a care, Charlotte, I remember, we remember thee, How, at evening's hour so fair, Thou a kindly hand didst reach us, When thou, in some happy place Where more fair is Nature s face, Many a lightly-hidden trace Of a spirit loved didst teach us. Well 'tis that thy worth I rightly knew,-- That I, in the hour when first we met, While the first impression fill'd me yet, Call'd thee then a girl both good and true. Rear'd in silence, calmly, knowing nought, On the world we suddenly are thrown; Hundred thousand billows round us sport; All things charm us--many please alone, Many grieve us, and as hour on hour is stealing, To and fro our restless natures sway; First we feel, and then we find each feeling By the changeful world-stream borne away. Well I know, we oft within us find Many a hope and many a smart. Charlotte, who can know our mind? Charlotte, who can know our heart? Ah! 'twould fain be understood, 'twould fain o'erflow In some creature's fellow-feelings blest, And, with trust, in twofold measure know All the grief and joy in Nature's breast. Then thine eye is oft around thee cast, But in vain, for all seems closed for ever. Thus the fairest part of life is madly pass'd Free from storm, but resting never: To thy sorrow thou'rt to-day repell'd By what yesterday obey'd thee. Can that world by thee be worthy held Which so oft betray'd thee? Which, 'mid all thy pleasures and thy pains, Lived in selfish, unconcern'd repose? See, the soul its secret cells regains, And the heart--makes haste to close. Thus found I thee, and gladly went to meet thee; "She's worthy of all love!" I cried, And pray'd that Heaven with purest bliss might greet thee, Which in thy friend it richly hath supplied. 1776.*
Enter Author Name (Not Required)