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    The New Colossus
    Emma Lazarus
    "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 ...
    Audre Lorde
    Coming together
    it is easier to work
    after our bodies
    paper and ...
    Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
    Out of the bosom of the Air,
    Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,
    Over the woodlands brown and bare,
    Over the harvest-fields forsaken,
    Silent, and soft, and slow
    Descends the snow. ...

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