_The New Colossus

_The New Colossus

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,

With conquering limbs astride from land to land;

Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand

A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame

Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name

Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand

Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command

The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.

"Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she

With silent lips. *"Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,*

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"_
http://m.mentalfloss.com/article.php?id=92248

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

So, I asked Andrew Tamm, who filled my Stream with a hundred (sarcasm there) animated gifs and cat pictures to...

I'm shutting down Google+ for the night and quite possibly for the weekend.