Emma Lazarus Poems
|81.||The Guardian Of The Red Disk||4/16/2010|
|82.||The New Colossus||1/3/2003|
|83.||The New Ezekiel||1/3/2003|
|85.||The Supreme Sacrifice||1/3/2003|
|86.||The Taming Of The Falcon||1/3/2003|
|87.||The Valley Of Baca||4/16/2010|
|88.||The World’s Justice||4/16/2010|
|89.||To Carmen Sylva||4/16/2010|
|91.||Venus Of The Louvre||1/3/2003|
|94.||Youth And Death||4/16/2010|
The New Colossus
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 ...
Yet life is not a vision nor a prayer,
But stubborn work; she may not shun her task.
After the first compassion, none will spare
Her portion and her work achieved, to ask.
She pleads for respite,—she will come ere long
When, resting by the roadside, she is strong.
Nay, for the hurrying throng of passers-by
Will crush her with their onward-rolling stream.