Skip to main content

PGP: C756 2813 F881 06E2 6F1F 547B 003F 530D 3859 B702

Learn more about me. Email me at

cleverdevil

cleverdevil

cleverdevil

cleverdevil

cleverdevil

cleverdevil

micro.blog/cleverdevil

💡😈.ws

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

The New Colossus ❤️

1 min read

By 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 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!"