Emma Lazarus, 1883<\/p>\n
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
\nWith conquering limbs astride from land to land;
\nHere at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
\nA mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
\nIs the imprisoned lightning, and her name
\nMother of Exiles.\u00a0 From her beacon-hand
\nGlows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
\nThe air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
\n“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
\nWith silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
\nYour huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
\nThe wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
\nSend these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
\nI lift my lamp beside the golden door!”<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Emma Lazarus, 1883 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 … Continue reading