The full text
"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!"
Source: Emma Lazarus, The Poems of Emma Lazarus, vol.1 (1889), 2
usinfo.state.gov
My family arrived here in 1853 in New York to escape the Irish potato famine and immigrated to Ilinois to start a farm. The youngest son (my great-great-great-gandfather) had a son, then volunteered for the Union Army. He was shot and captured in his first battle and shipped to Andersonville Prison, Georgia, which he barely survived. He died 2 years after the end of the war of the harsh effects of his imprisonment.
We've paid a high price for this country. Let's keep it and all that makes it worthwhile. |
