| The New Colossus by Emma Lazarus | % Correct |
|---|---|
| A mighty w{oman} with a torch, whose flame | 86%
|
| Is the imprisoned lightning, and her n{ame} | 86%
|
| “Keep, ancient l{ands}, your storied pomp!” cries she | 86%
|
| The wretched refuse of your teeming s{hore}. | 86%
|
| With conquering limbs astride from land to l{and}; | 86%
|
| With silent lips. “Give me your t{ired}, your poor, | 86%
|
| Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-h{and} | 71%
|
| The air-bridged harbor that twin c{ities} frame. | 71%
|
| I lift my l{amp} beside the golden door!” | 57%
|
| Your huddled masses yearning to b{reathe} free, | 57%
|
| Send these, the h{omeless}, tempest-tost to me, | 43%
|
| Not like the brazen giant of G{reek} fame, | 29%
|
| Glows world-wide w{elcome}; her mild eyes command | 14%
|
| Here at our sea-washed, sunset g{ates} shall stand | 14%
|