Composed together with Mia Taylor, for America’s 250th birthday.
Her copper coat now weathered by the rains,
By dreams deferred and promises half-kept,
Above the isle where weary millions stepped,
The mighty woman with the torch remains.
She cannot sway those weighty sunset gates
That barred the way and forced St. Louis on,
Yet parted for the ships that fled Saigon,
And now draw shut again. Undimmed, she waits.
“I want them all,” with silent lips cries she:
“The stranded allies, scarred and battle-sore;
The children borne through deserts; those who flee
From hunger, hatred, tyranny and war.
And, ready when once more the gates swing free,
My lamp still burns beside the golden door.”
Unexpected Values 