Not like the famous, bold giant of the Greeks
With overwhelming arms stretching across from land to land;
Here at our sunset gates, washed by the sea, she will stand
A strong woman, with a flaming torch
Like captured light, and her name is
Leader of the immigrants. Her bright-hand
Welcomes the world; she commands
The air-bridged harbor that frames the twin citites
She says to others to "keep your stuck-up, old lands"
Silently, that they should give her their tired and poor
The downtrodden people that just want to be free
The ones they consider their garbage
Send those homeless people to her shores
She holds her torch beside the golden gates of her free land
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