| 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 | |
| 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 | |
| The poem: “The New Colossus” inscribed on the Statute of Liberty | |
| . | |
| On This Day In: | |
| 2016 | Why Do You Write/Blog? |
| 2015 | Can Your Repeat The Question, Please? |
| 2014 | On Faith |
| 2013 | My Name Is Charles Stein |
| 2012 | Faiths And Sorcery |
| Made And Kept Free | |
| 2011 | Multi-Source Learning |
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