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 SONNET XXV. Quanto più m' avvicino al giorno estremo. HE CONSOLES HIMSELF THAT HIS LIFE IS ADVANCING TO ITS CLOSE. Near and more near as life's last period draws,Which oft is hurried on by human woe,I see the passing hours more swiftly flow,And all my hopes in disappointment close.And to my heart I say, amidst its throes,"Not long shall we discourse of love below;For this my earthly load, like new-fall'n snowFast melting, soon shall leave us to repose.With it will sink in dust each towering hope,Cherish'd so long within my faithful breast;No more shall we resent, fear, smile, complain:Then shall we clearly trace why some are blest,Through deepest misery raised to Fortune's top,And why so many sighs so oft are heaved in vain." Wrangham. [Pg 36] The nearer I approach my life's last day,The certain day that limits human woe,I better mark, in Time's swift silent flow,How the fond hopes he brought all pass'd away.Of love no longer—to myself I say—We now may commune, for, as virgin snow,The hard and heavy load we drag belowDissolves and dies, ere rest in heaven repay.And prostrate with it must each fair hope lieWhich here beguiled us and betray'd so long,And joy, grief, fear and pride alike shall cease:And then too shall we see with clearer eyeHow oft we trod in weary ways and wrong,And why so long in vain we sigh'd for peace. Macgregor.
Enter Author Name (Not Required)