Download Meme Generator on Google Play

Russell

I want to live in a country known the world over as "the place" where democracy, freedom and opportunity live and are made available to anyone willing to work for them. A country that at it's frontier would place a huge statue announcing this fact and welcoming all who were coming to claim it. A statue that had been given as a gift in recognition of its past and ongoing championing of that ideal. and on that statue we could engrave this sonnet and pledge that as long as these words can still be read, we would honor that pledge
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 homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
I want to live in a country known the world over as "the place" where democracy, freedom and opportunity live and are made available to anyone willing to work for them. A country that at it's frontier would place a huge statue announcing this fact and welcoming all who were coming to claim it. A statue that had been given as a gift in recognition of its past and ongoing championing of that ideal. and on that statue we could engrave this sonnet and pledge that as long as these words can still be read, we would honor that pledge
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 homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

This item will be deleted. Are you sure?