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 have slept in beds of roses, And walked o’er fields of thyme. I am called the wanderer Of every mount and clime. My back is marked by lashes. I know the Roman’s scorn. When I stood at the tomb of Cyrus On a dusty Persian plain, I saw all realms and empires Rise up to shine and wane. This world’s weary ways I know And shall know to the end. Once on a Friday morning I mocked a fellow Jew. I have borne the gentile’s fury, I took tenfold my due. Though mortals put off dying, I’d don the robes they shun. When Israel’s sheep were slaughtered, I cried. “Not they but I Must breathe the Beast’s foul poison,” But vainly did I cry. Whose woes compare to my deep woes, O you who pass this way? I am a wise philosopher. To this one truth I came: All men and women are different, And yet they’re all the same. This is a pearl of wisdom That some for pride distain. In synagogues and churches, In mosque and Buddhist fane, All people of all creeds make moan: “Come, Lord, Thy kingdom claim, But wait a little longer, Lord, While we manage on our own”. I believe in Zion’s dawning, Yet I have learned the woe Of one Jew’s death and suffering. My sufferings say ‘tis so. But the offering of millions Has made poor Atlas groan. O Shepherd of a scattered flock, Your words are no less true Than when David’s house was strong Or when manna fell as dew. Refreshment follows weariness Life death as death this life. I have slept in beds of roses, And walked o’er fields of thyme. I am called the wanderer Of every mount and clime. I see my path wind upwards Towards Jerusalem.
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