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!"
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The pure, the bright, The beautiful that stirred our hearts in youth, The impulses to wordless prayer, The streams of love and truth, The longing after something lost, The spirit's yearning cry, The striving after better hopes; These things can never die. The timid hand stretched forth to aid a brother in his need, A kindly word in grief's dark hour that proves a friend indeed; The plea for mercy softly breathed, When justice threatens high, The sorrow of a contrite heart; These things shall never die, shall never die. Let nothing pass, For every hand must find some work to do, Lose not a chance to waken love. Be firm and just and true, So shall a light that cannot fade beam on thee from on high, And angel voices say to thee; These things can never die.
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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!'
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Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free. - Engrved on Statue of Liberty
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My name is `Abdu'l-Bahá [literally, Servant of Baha]. My qualification is `Abdu'l-Bahá. My reality is `Abdu'l-Bahá. My praise is `Abdu'l-Bahá. Thraldom to the Blessed Perfection [Bahá'u'lláh] is my glorious and refulgent diadem, and servitude to all the human race my perpetual religion... No name, no title, no mention, no commendation have I, nor will ever have, except `Abdu'l-Bahá. This is my longing. This is my greatest yearning. This is my eternal life. This is my everlasting glory.
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With silent lips. 'Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,...
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With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,...
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It is indeed ironic that we spend our school days yearning to graduate and our remaining days waxing nostalgic about our school days.
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I seldom think about my limitations, and they never make me sad. Perhaps there is just a touch of yearning at times but it is vague, like a breeze among flowers.
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Translation is the paradigm, the exemplar of all writing. It is translation that demonstrates most vividly the yearning for transformation that underlies every act involving speech, that supremely human gift.
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There are three ingredients to the good life; learning, earning, and yearning.
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There are three ingredients in the good life: learning, earning, and yearning.
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Yearning is not only a good way to go crazy but also a pretty good place to hide out from hard truth.
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But the mother's yearning, that completest type of the life in another life which is the essence of real human love, feels the presence of the cherished child even in the debased, degraded man.
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The absolute yearning of one human body for another particular body and its indifference to substitutes is one of life's major mysteries.
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The yearning for an afterlife is the opposite of selfish it is love and praise for the world that we are privileged, in this complex interval of light, to witness and experience.
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I want to know not his earning power but his yearning power.
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A mother's yearning feels the presence of the cherished child even in the degraded man.
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We in the South were ready for reconciliation, to be accepted as equals, to rejoin the mainstream of American political life. This yearning fo...
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Aim for your star, no matter how far, you must reach high above and touch your life with love, you must never look back, but charge on! Attack! See your goal your star of desire, see it red hot, feel it burning, you must be obsessed with it to make it your true yearning, be ready my friends for when you truly believe it, you will certainly achieve it and by all of God?s universal laws you will always receive it!
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Books may be burned and cities sacked, but truth like the yearning for freedom, lives in the hearts of humble men and women. The ultimate vict...
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Philippians 1:23:
I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far
(NIV)
But I am hard pressed between the two. My yearning desire is to depart (to be free of this world, to set forth) and be with Christ, for that is far, far better
(AMP)
For I am in a strait betwixt two, having a desire to depart, and to be with Christ; which is far better:
(KJV)
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