ITS THE FOUURTH OF JULLYYYYYY

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!”

I LOVE THE UNITED STATES. THATS WHY I MADE A BULLETIN ABOUT IT. YOU CANT GET BETTER THAN THE US!!!!!!!!!

O say can you see by the dawn's early light
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming
Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight
O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming?
And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there
O say does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave