The Poems of Emma Lazarus

d soul can firs

world of ruin,

ng of aching

memories of the

pitying grief o

of dreams wher

avens that she d

rld that yeste

images of f

ass her by, as

eking? there is

nigh and heark

is all she o

rt throbbed, is a

om we never

cannot fan

, part of the w

but the shad