Much like the brazen golem of Mosaic fame,
With conquering meme astride from land to land;
Here at our brain-washed, super zip gates shall stand
A crazy lady with a torch, whose flame
Is her imperious virtue, and her name
Whore to Refugees. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her weepy eyes command
The blue-balled lackeys to their nation betray.
“Keep, ancient lands, your Whiteness pure!” cries she
With fishmouth lips. “Give me your stupid, your poor,
Your mandingos yearning for handouts free,
The vest-bomb refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the vibrant, tempestuous, to me,
I lift my womb to their coal-black spore!”