Until We Are All Free, We Are

Kindle The Taper Like The Steadfast Star Ablaze On Evening's Forehead O'er The Earth, And Add Each Night A Lustre Till Afar An Eightfold Splendor Shine Above Thy Hearth.

Thou Two-faced Year, Mother Of Change And Fate...

Naught Is Too Small And Soft To Turn And Sting.

I Seem To Have Always One Little Window Looking But Into Life.

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.