AN INTERVAL: THE LINES ON THE STATUE OF LIBERTY.

AN INTERVAL: THE LINES ON THE STATUE OF LIBERTY.

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 cities 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 be free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

From Emma Lazarus: Selected Poems, edited by John Hollander.  Library of America, 2005.

For Madonna Kashanian.