Emma Lazarus

(22 July 1849 – 19 November 1887 / New York City / United States)

Emma Lazarus Poems

1. Work -new- 6/29/2015
2. Niagara 3/27/2012
3. To Carmen Sylva 4/16/2010
4. The Valley Of Baca 4/16/2010
5. The Death Of Raschi 4/16/2010
6. Marjorie’s Wooing 4/16/2010
7. Sonnet 4/16/2010
8. Song From Heine 4/16/2010
9. Matins 4/16/2010
10. Morning 4/16/2010
11. How Long? 4/16/2010
12. In A Swedish Graveyard 4/16/2010
13. Mater Amabilis 4/16/2010
14. Phantasies 4/16/2010
15. The Day Of Dead Soldiers 4/16/2010
16. Gifts 4/16/2010
17. August Moon 4/16/2010
18. The Elixir 4/16/2010
19. The South 4/16/2010
20. The Garden Of Adonis 4/16/2010
21. The Banner Of The Jew 4/16/2010
22. The World’s Justice 4/16/2010
23. Saint Romualdo 4/16/2010
24. Lohengrin 4/16/2010
25. Agamemnon’s Tomb 4/16/2010
26. On A Tuft Of Grass 4/16/2010
27. In Exile 4/16/2010
28. Reality 4/16/2010
29. Off Rough Point 4/16/2010
30. Restlessness 4/16/2010
31. On The Proposal To Erect A Monument In England To Lord Byron 4/16/2010
32. The Choice 4/16/2010
33. Bar Kochba 4/16/2010
34. Idyl 4/16/2010
35. Song 4/16/2010
36. Wings 4/16/2010
37. Heroes 4/16/2010
38. Links 4/16/2010
39. Spring Star 4/16/2010
40. Youth And Death 4/16/2010
Best Poem of Emma Lazarus

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 ...

Read the full of The New Colossus

City Visions

I

As the blind Milton's memory of light,
The deaf Beethoven's phantasy of tone,
Wroght joys for them surpassing all things known
In our restricted sphere of sound and sight,--
So while the glaring streets of brick and stone
Vix with heat, noise, and dust from morn till night,
I will give rein to Fancy, taking flight

[Hata Bildir]