Give to me your tired and your poor,
your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.
The wretched refuse of
your teeming shore
Send these, the homeless,
tombes tossed to
Blessed are the persecuted
And blessed are the pure
in heart
Blessed are the merciful
And blessed are the ones who mourn
The step is hard that tears away the roots
and says goodbye to friends and family.
The fathers and the mothers weep,
the children cannot comprehend.
But when there is a promised land,
the brave will go and others follow.
The beauty of the human spirit
is our will to try our dream s.
And so the masses teamed across the ocean
to a land of peace and hope.
But no one heard a voice or saw a line as
they were tumbled on to shore.
An d none was welcomed by the echo of the phrase,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door.
Blessed are the persecuted.
And blessed are the pure in heart
Blessed are the merciful
Oh, and bless it all for one tomorrow
you