Just found that gem by Emma Lazarus. Would she have written the same today?
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.
Originally posted by Ponderable Just found that gem by Emma Lazarus. Would she have written the same today?
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 ...[text shortened]... ide welcome; her
mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin
cities frame.
The next few lines...
"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!"
indicate she was a helpless romantic.
Even then, at the time of her writing, such was not the case in the US, which had already been given over to the powerful, the elite.
Our story looks absolutely riveting on paper, but the reality is, the experiment was doomed from the start, no matter how much it was dressed up as a republic by, for the people.
poetry
21 Apr '17 13:23
