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-TOSSED, TO ME: I LIFT MY LAMP BESIDE THE GOLDEN DOOR. THEN WE'LL CALL THEM CRIMINALS AND TERRORIST FOR SEEKING ASYLUM