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 Three gentlemen live close beside me -- A painter of pictures bizarre, A poet whose virtues might guide me, A singer who plays the guitar; And there on my lintel is Cupid; I leave my door open, and yet These gentlemen, aren't they stupid! They never make love to Babette. I go to the shop every morning; I work with my needle and thread; Silk, satin and velvet adorning, Then luncheon on coffee and bread. Then sewing and sewing till seven; Or else, if the order I get, I toil and I toil till eleven -- And such is the day of Babette. It doesn't seem cheerful, I fancy; The wage is unthinkably small; And yet there is one thing I can say: I keep a bright face through it all. I chaff though my head may be aching; I sing a gay song to forget; I laugh though my heart may be breaking -- It's all in the life of Babette. That gown, O my lady of leisure, You begged to be "finished in haste." It gives you an exquisite pleasure, Your lovers remark on its taste. Yet . . . oh, the poor little white faces, The tense midnight toil and the fret . . . I fear that the foam of its laces Is salt with the tears of Babette. It takes a brave heart to be cheery With no gleam of hope in the sky; The future's so utterly dreary, I'm laughing -- in case I should cry. And if, where the gay lights are glowing, I dine with a man I have met, And snatch a bright moment -- who's going To blame a poor little Babette? And you, Friend beyond all the telling, Although you're an ocean away, Your pictures, they tell me, are selling, You're married and settled, they say. Such happiness one wouldn't barter; Yet, oh, do you never regret The Springtide, the roses, Montmartre, Youth, poverty, love and -- Babette? That blond-haired chap across the way With sunny smile and voice so mellow, He sings in some cheap cabaret, Yet what a gay and charming fellow! His breath with garlic may be strong, What matters it? his laugh is jolly; His day he gives to sleep and song: His night's made up of song and folly.
Enter Author Name (Not Required)