The Newer Colossus, 21st Century
(with thanks and apologies to Emma Lazarus, whose famous poem follows this)
Not like the giants of colonial fame
Who wrote a Constitution for this land;
Here at our airports and our ports now stands
A lightweight man who torches truth, whose flames
Of lies and rancor darken all, whose name,
Grabber of Women. From his shadow-hand
Pens fear to all; his cold blue eyes command
The minds of Congress who our laws once framed.
"Keep, ragged lands, your suff'ring hoards!" cries he
With sneering lips. "Give us no tired, nor poor,
No huddled masses who would here be free,
No war-torn refuse welcomed at these shores.
Send back the homeless, tempest-tost from me,
I lift my hand to shut the golden door!"
Scott L. Barton
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 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!"