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Pastimes : My House -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: average joe who wrote (2227)	10/6/2002 1:42:42 AM
From: Rainy_Day_Woman	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 7689

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 This poem written in 1883 is on a plaque in the museum located under the Statue of Liberty.