 |
| "Liberty Enlightening the World" or "The Mother of Exiles" |
The Statue of Liberty has always seemed sturdy and comforting to me. Like a mother who protects and loves all her children. Even the adopted ones who show up at her door. When my immigrant ancestors' ship encountered the giant statue in New York Harbor in 1892, I hope they got to see it. However, considering they had been packed into steerage like human cargo, I'm not sure they were allowed to stand on the deck and take part in that spectacular moment.
French sculptor Frederic Auguste Bartholdi named his 151-foot copper colossus "Liberty Enlightening the World" to commemorate the one-hundredth anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence. He added something more. Beneath one barefoot of the statue, he fashioned broken chains and a shackle, reflecting our nation's abolishment of slavery. Our friends, the French, took great pride in that moment in our nation's history. Lady Liberty was a generous gift from France, but the US had to pay for a gargantuan pedestal, which added about another 150 feet and would cost nearly $250,000 (8.4 million today.)
For a fundraiser, Emma Lazarus wrote a sonnet titled "The New Colossus." I prefer her phrase "Mother of Exiles" for the title. But I suppose the poet was in awe of the statue's giant hand and 29-foot flame on display in Madison Square Park from 1876 to 1882. Certainly a colossus! Lazarus died before the poem was inscribed on a bronze plaque and affixed to the statue's base.
The most quotable phrase in Lazarus's poem is "Give me your tired, your poor, / Your huddled masses yearning to be free," which has lost its luster for many Americans in 2025.
"The New Colossus" Sonnet--original document
The New Colossus
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
the air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "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 door!"
Top photo by StockSnap on Pixabay; Document of the handwritten poem and photo of Emma Lazarus found in the Library of Congress.
--Submitted by elder Pappy Stargazer
Please contact us if you would like to submit a story, poem, reflection, or essay.
No comments:
Post a Comment