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 (Nicola Sacco -- Bartolomeo Vanzetti) Executed August 23, 1927 I As men have loved their lovers in times past And sung their wit, their virtue and their grace, So have we loved sweet Justice to the last, That now lies here in an unseemly place. The child will quit the cradle and grow wise And stare on beauty till his senses drown; Yet shall be seen no more by mortal eyes Such beauty as here walked and here went down. Like birds that hear the winter crying plain Her courtiers leave to seek the clement south; Many have praised her, we alone remain To break a fist against the lying mouth Of any man who says this was not so: Though she be dead now, as indeed we know. II Where can the heart be hidden in the ground And be at peace, and be at peace forever, Under the world, untroubled by the sound Of mortal tears, that cease from pouring never? Well for the heart, by stern compassion harried, If death be deeper than the churchmen say, -- Gone from this world indeed what's graveward carried, And laid to rest indeed what's laid away. Anguish enough while yet the indignant breather Have blood to spurt upon the oppressor's hand; Who would eternal be, and hang in ether A stuffless ghost above his struggling land, Retching in vain to render up the groan That is not there, being aching dust's alone?
Enter Author Name (Not Required)