- The New Colossus
By Emma Lazarus
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://www.poets.o...
The New Colossus.doc 
