Most of us think or remember the latter part of the inscription that starts with, "...brint me your tired..."

But there is so much more.

Her story is one not of France giving us a nice statue, but a poke in the eye of europe and the "old ways".

A tribute to the American spirit and a snub to the ways of tyrany.

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 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 homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Emma Lazarus (1849-1887)


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