Mother of Exiles
In troubling times, I have long turned to poetry, country music lyrics, and hymnody for comfort. Actually, more than comfort, they help me get closer to identifying what I am feeling.
These are troubling times. And, yesterday, I found myself groping for the words to a poem I memorized in the sixth grade.
I did not remember the name, yet the words formed on my lips as though it was still 1956:
Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.
The title of Emma Lazarus’ poem is “The New Colossus,” and you may remember the work she wrote to inspire fund raising for the pedestal of The Statue of Liberty.
What I only recently learned is that Lazarus chose her words, not so much to reflect America’s attitudes as though they are fixed, but rather to inspire America to always enlist its better angels as regards the stranger, the alien, the immigrant in all times,” and especially in troubling times such as these.
Her biographer, Esther Schor, praised Lazarus’ lasting contribution:
“The irony is that the statue goes on speaking, even when the tide turns against immigration,” even against immigrants themselves, as they adjust to their American lives. You can’t think of the statue without hearing the words Emma Lazarus gave her.”
Verse
The 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 homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”