The New Colossus

¹Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,

²With conquering limbs astride from land to land;

³Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand

⁴A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame

⁵Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name

⁶Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand

⁷Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command

⁸The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.

⁹"Give me your tired, your poor,

¹⁰Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

¹¹The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

¹²Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

¹³I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"