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!"
Emma Lazarus, 1883
Happy 125th, baby! Still looking good.
4 comments:
The sad thing is: If the Statue of Liberty were put up today, she wouldn't be holding a torch--her hand would be out in a "don't come here" signal.
....And the tablet she carries would say: "Why don't you go back where you came from? (Unless you have $500,000 cash.)"
Happy 125th, baby! Still looking good.
I hope you get to say that someday to the most beautiful New Yorker! ;-)
I don't wanna hang around that long.
Hey, as long as yer havin' fun...
Post a Comment