The New Colossus Poem

 The New Colossus

By Emma Lazarus

 (1849-1887)

 

 

 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

 tossed to me,

 I lift my lamp beside the golden door! "