Monday, April 10, 2006

lest we forget

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.


- Emma Lazarus






0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home