Give me your tired, your poor
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Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free
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The wretched refuse of your teeming shore
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Send these the homeless tempest-tost to me
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I lift my lamp beside the golden door!
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Give me your tired, your poor
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Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free
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The wretched refuse of your teeming shore
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Send these the homeless tempest-tost to me
|
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!
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Give Me Your Tired, Your Poor
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| Irving Berlin |