And the lady in the harbor, She still holds her torch out To those huddled masses who are Yearning for a freedom that still eludes them. The immigrant's children see their brightest dreams shattered Here on the New Jersey shoreline in the Greed and the glitter of those high-tech casinos, But some mendicants wander off into a cathedral, And they stoop in the silence And there their prayers are still whispered.
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Colum McCann on Gazing Homewards
Sheila wore a wide-brimmed straw hat over her long white hair. Corrigan dabbed his handkerchief on her brow. She scratched out some sounds from her throat. She had that emigrant’s sadness — she would never go back to her old country — it was gone in more senses than one — but she was forever gazing homewards anyway.