 |
"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!"
|
|
 |
"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."
|
 |
Jews are the intensive form of any nationality whose language and customs they adopt.
|
 |
"His cup is gall, his meat is tears, His passion lasts a thousand years."
|
 |
"Still on Israel's head forlorn, Every nation heaps its scorn."
|
|