Home » Poems » Poetry Art » Poetry Art / Greeting Card Maker

Greeting Card Maker | Poem Art Generator

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)

Enter Author Name (Not Required)

Move Text:

Heading Text

       
Color:

Main/Poem Text

       
Color:
Background Position Alignment:
  | 
 

Upload Image: 
 


 
 10mb max file size
Use Internet Image:




Like: https://www.poetrysoup.com/images/ce_Finnaly_home_soare.jpg  
Layout:   
www.poetrysoup.com - Create a card from your words, quote, or poetry
Sonnet XIV

[Pg 246]

SONNET XIV.

Alma felice, che sovente torni.

HE THANKS HER THAT FROM TIME TO TIME SHE RETURNS TO CONSOLE HIM WITH HER PRESENCE.

O blessed spirit! who dost oft return,Ministering comfort to my nights of woe,From eyes which Death, relenting in his blow,Has lit with all the lustres of the morn:How am I gladden'd, that thou dost not scornO'er my dark days thy radiant beam to throw!Thus do I seem again to trace belowThy beauties, hovering o'er their loved sojourn.There now, thou seest, where long of thee had beenMy sprightlier strain, of thee my plaint I swell—Of thee!—oh, no! of mine own sorrows keen.One only solace cheers the wretched scene:By many a sign I know thy coming well—Thy step, thy voice and look, and robe of favour'd green.
Wrangham.
When welcome slumber locks my torpid frame,I see thy spirit in the midnight dream;Thine eyes that still in living lustre beam:In all but frail mortality the same.Ah! then, from earth and all its sorrows free,Methinks I meet thee in each former scene:Once the sweet shelter of a heart serene;Now vocal only while I weep for thee.For thee!—ah, no! From human ills secure.Thy hallow'd soul exults in endless day;'Tis I who linger on the toilsome way:No balm relieves the anguish I endure;Save the fond feeble hope that thou art nearTo soothe my sufferings with an angel's tear.
Anne Bannerman.
Written by: Francesco Petrarch