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 FIRST SPIRIT O thou, who plum'd with strong desire Wouldst float above the earth, beware! A Shadow tracks thy flight of fire-- Night is coming! Bright are the regions of the air, And among the winds and beams It were delight to wander there-- Night is coming!SECOND SPIRIT The deathless stars are bright above; If I would cross the shade of night, Within my heart is the lamp of love, And that is day! And the moon will smile with gentle light On my golden plumes where'er they move; The meteors will linger round my flight, And make night day.FIRST SPIRIT But if the whirlwinds of darkness waken Hail, and lightning, and stormy rain; See, the bounds of the air are shaken-- Night is coming! The red swift clouds of the hurricane Yon declining sun have overtaken, The clash of the hail sweeps over the plain-- Night is coming!SECOND SPIRIT I see the light, and I hear the sound; I'll sail on the flood of the tempest dark, With the calm within and the light around Which makes night day: And thou, when the gloom is deep and stark, Look from thy dull earth, slumber-bound, My moon-like flight thou then mayst mark On high, far away.---- Some say there is a precipice Where one vast pine is frozen to ruin O'er piles of snow and chasms of ice Mid Alpine mountains; And that the languid storm pursuing That winged shape, for ever flies Round those hoar branches, aye renewing Its aëry fountains. Some say when nights are dry and dear, And the death-dews sleep on the morass, Sweet whispers are heard by the traveller, Which make night day: And a silver shape like his early love doth pass Upborne by her wild and glittering hair, And when he awakes on the fragrant grass, He finds night day.
Enter Author Name (Not Required)