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 Sweet were the days though too few in number When dread was lain over all tomorrows By those whom upon the Rod of Asclepius swore Sending him to seek solace And pass by unseen By the Final Fire in the Hall of the Mountain King A blue star burned cold upon his brow In the darkness to proclaim his coming To this place he claimed As the home of his heart To play his part in this most sacred scene By the Final Fire in the Hall of the Mountain King Alone he arrived To no greeting or welcome But gladness filled him all-the-same No company would be kept For this final thing By the Final Fire in the Hall of the Mountain King There were no songs in the Hall No one to sing Of loves lost or left behind Succored and scoured By compulsive dream By the Final Fire in the Hall of the Mountain King No proof against arms was his armor Though many times it had saved him Against ravage and rage of weather Their service no longer in need He laid them before him in offering To the Final Fire in the Hall of the Mountain King Although weakened, quickly he kindled The first glowing embers Coached them and coaxed them So fragile and nascent Till they brought into being The Final Fire in the Hall of the Mountain King His presence in this hostile home Alone would suffice No grief-stricken children Or wailing of women No beeps or buzzes of cold machines Only the Final Fire in the Hall of the Mountain King He dreamt of the First Dawn of his absence And was surprised it weighed nothing Against the many that he was graced to see Contentedly he caressed them Comfortable in his memory By the Final Fire in the Hall of the Mountain King. His star dimmed slowly before the First Dawn With dignity dwindled the last flickering flames As cold grew the King On his throne of Stone Set free near the ashes Of The Final Fire in the Hall of the Mountain King Then Alpenglow burst the first rays of day Round the only monument To a life lived like lightning burst forth from the storm So proud stood the peak Glad alone to have seen The Final Fire in the Hall of the Mountain King
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