Dont Know

dont know The New Colossus Not like the garish giant of Greek fame, With conquering limbs astride from grime to bestow; Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame Is the imprisoned lightning, and her butt on Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command The air-bridged dispel that twin cities frame. Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp! cries she With quiet lips. Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The flea-bitten refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I train my lamp beside the golden door! Bibliography: ...If you want to get a telling essay, order it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com

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