I wonder how you came to stand in New York Harbor...magnificent crown and long, flowing gown
Risen proudly over grey blue sea our banner did wave over purple mountains majesty
A symbol of the home of the brave, land of the free...glowing torch in hand.
Like a copper kettle you glistened and shimmered, so the world would remember:
Our freedom was won, as was shone in this gift of massive proportion.
A symbol of the power to vote and elect, but like a penny on a dusty shelf,
it's edges green with age, so the passing of time has dulled your shine...
not through wrinkle of skin or blemish of face, but through chipping away by wind
and weather that which made you a divine, gold giant.
you've watched over your people with a wisdom in your gaze--
Proud, strong...defiant.
And now, the color of toothpaste, your gaze proves true for the thousands
come to see you each year.
Gallantly, you stand as they stare.
They rise to your crown and swallow all the beauty of New York with pride.
And season to season, age to age, your purpose does not hide...
We are Americans, bold strong and free...and always will be.
CES (C). 2002
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