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.
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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I see her still--by her fair train surrounded, The fairest of them all, she took her place; Afar I stood, by her bright charms confounded, For, oh! they dazzled with their heavenly grace. With awe my soul was filled--with bliss unbounded, While gazing on her softly radiant face; But soon, as if up-borne on wings of fire, My fingers 'gan to sweep the sounding lyre. The thoughts that rushed across me in that hour, The words I sang, I'd fain once more invoke; Within, I felt a new-awakened power, That each emotion of my bosom spoke. My soul, long time enchained in sloth's dull bower, Through all its fetters now triumphant broke, And brought to light unknown, harmonious numbers, Which in its deepest depths, had lived in slumbers. And when the chords had ceased their gentle sighing, And when my soul rejoined its mortal frame, I looked upon her face and saw love vieing, In every feature, with her maiden shame. And soon my ravished heart seemed heavenward flying, When her soft whisper o'er my senses came. The blissful seraphs' choral strains alone Can glad mine ear again with that sweet tone, Of that fond heart, which, pining silently, Ne'er ventures to express its feelings lowly, The real and modest worth is known to me-- 'Gainst cruel fate I'll guard its cause so holy. Most blest of all, the meek one's lot shall be-- Love's flowers by love's own hand are gathered solely-- The fairest prize to that fond heart is due, That feels it, and that beats responsive, too!
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