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 LXI. S' onesto amor può meritar mercede. HE PRAYS THAT, IN REWARD FOR HIS LONG AND VIRTUOUS ATTACHMENT, SHE WILL VISIT HIM IN DEATH. If Mercy e'er rewardeth virtuous love,If Pity still can do, as she has done,I shall have rest, for clearer than the sunMy lady and the world my faith approve.Who fear'd me once, now knows, yet scarce believesI am the same who wont her love to seek,Who seek it still; where she but heard me speak,Or saw my face, she now my soul perceives.[Pg 292]Wherefore I hope that e'en in heaven she mournsMy heavy anguish, and on me the whileHer sweet face eloquent of pity turns,And that when shuffled off this mortal coil,Her way to me with that fair band she'll wend,True follower of Christ and virtue's friend. Macgregor. If virtuous love doth merit recompense—If pity still maintain its wonted sway—I that reward shall win, for bright as dayTo earth and Laura breathes my faith's incense.She fear'd me once—now heavenly confidenceReveals my heart's first hope's unchanging stay;A word, a look, could this alone convey,My heart she reads now, stripp'd of earth's defence.And thus I hope, she for my heavy sighsTo heaven complains, to me she pity showsBy sympathetic visits in my dream:And when this mortal temple breathless lies,Oh! may she greet my soul, enclosed by thoseWhom heaven and virtue love—our friends supreme. Wollaston.
Enter Author Name (Not Required)