I saw this interesting article about poems that everyone kind of thinks they know. Here is the poem. Can you recognize it before you get to the second half?
Quote:
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!”
Sure, it was the poem which was inscribed on the Statue of Liberty. The woman who wrote (can't recall her name right now) died of child-bed fever before the age of 30.
I'm sorry, i was wrong (misinformed). Emma Lazarus died before she was 40, and it was not from child bed fever.
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engineer
1
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Wed 3 Apr, 2013 11:34 am
@timur,
I am one of those who would not have recognized it until you got to the "Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free" part. If someone had read me they first part I would have been clueless.