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 From me, my Dear, O seek not to receive What e'en deep-read Experience cannot give. We may, indeed, from the Physician's skill Some Med'cine find to cure the body's ill. But who e'er found the physic for the soul, Or made th' affections bend to his controul? When thro' the blaze of passion objects show How dark 's the shade! how bright the colours glow! All the rous'd soul with transport's overcome, And the mind's surly Monitor is dumb. In vain the sages turn their volumes o'er, And on the musty page incessant pore, Still mighty Love triumphant rules the heart, Baffles their labour, and eludes their art. Say what is science, what is reason's force To stop the passions wild ungovern'd course? Reason, 'tis true, may point the rocky shore, And shew the danger, but can serve no more, From wave to wave the wretched wreck is tost, And reason 's in th' impetuous torrent lost. In vain we strive, when urg'd by cold neglect, By various means our freedom to effect, Tho' like the bee from sweet to sweet we rove, And search for ease in the vast sound of Love, Tho' in each Nymph we meet a kind return, Still in the firstfond hopeless flame we burn, That dear idea still our thoughts employs, And blest variety itself e'en cloys. So exiles banish'd from their native home Are met with pity wheresoe'er they come, Yet still their native soil employs their care, And death were ease to lay their ashes there.
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