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!"
Psst...
Do you want to get language learning tips and resources every week or two? Join our mailing list to receive new ways to improve your language learning in your inbox!
Join the listEnglish Audio Request
|
105
Words
/
2 Recordings
/
0 Comments
|
Recordings
Comments
Overview
You can use our built-in RhinoRecorder to record from within your browser, or you may also use the form to upload an audio file for this Audio Request.
Don't have audio recording software? We recommend Audacity. It's free and easy to use.
Sponsored Links
