LAZARUS, EMMA : 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-tossed to me. I lift my lamp beside the golden door.
LAZARUS, EMMA : 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-tossed to me. I lift my lamp beside the golden door.
LAZARUS, EMMA : 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-tossed to me) I lift my lamp beside the golden door.
