“O America, I am your Liberty, and you are that huddled mass yearning to breathe free. I am your Lighthouse, the One beaconing [yea, beckoning], and you are that wayfarer—strayed, grayed, and frayed … Now, return, you tempest-tost; lift up your gaze to the lighted torch aloft the golden door and come home.” GodAmericaSpeciesLetterOrigin Book:The Lamb's Epistle: The Living Lord's Final Word to a Dying World Source: The Lamb's Epistle: The Living Lord's Final Word to a Dying World