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My own curiosity and interest are insatiable.
Emma Lazarus -
No man had ever heard a nightingale,When once a keen-eyed naturalist was stirredTo study and define - what is a bird.
Emma Lazarus
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Lo - a black line of birds in wavering threadBore him the greetings of the deathless dead!
Emma Lazarus -
Poetry must be simple, sensuous, or impassioned.
Emma Lazarus -
A lady 'twixt two knights' stone effigies,And every day in dusky glory steepsTheir sculptured slumber of five centuries.
Emma Lazarus -
Until we are all free, we are none of us free.
Emma Lazarus -
The children of the prophets of the Lord,Prince, priest, and people, spurned by zealot hate.Hounded from sea to sea, from state to state,The West refused them, and the East abhorred.No anchorage the known world could afford.
Emma Lazarus -
The particular article ought in my opinion to be treated with absolute contempt. It is too vile to touch.
Emma Lazarus
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Sweet empty sky of June without a stain,Faint, gray-blue dewy mists on far-off hillsWarm, yellow sunlight flooding mead and plain,That each dark copse and hollow overfills:
Emma Lazarus -
I seem to have always one little window looking but into life.
Emma Lazarus -
I am perfectly conscious that this contempt and hatred underlies the general tone of the community towards us, and yet when I even remotely hint at the fact that we are not a favorite people I am accused of stirring up strife and setting barriers between the two sects.
Emma Lazarus -
Alas! we wake: one scene alone remains, -The exiles by the streams of Babylon.
Emma Lazarus -
Jews are the intensive form of any nationality whose language and customs they adopt.
Emma Lazarus -
The funeral and the marriage, now, alas!We know not which is sadder to recall.
Emma Lazarus
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Then Nature shaped a poet's heart - a lyreFrom out whose chords the lightest breeze that blowsDrew trembling music.
Emma Lazarus -
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall standA mighty woman with a torch, whose flameIs the imprisoned lightning, and her nameMother of Exiles.
Emma Lazarus -
I am never going to write for the sake of writing.
Emma Lazarus -
Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.
Emma Lazarus -
No signs of life are here: the very prayersInscribed around are in a language dead.
Emma Lazarus