Statue of Liberty

When I was a small boy there was a picture in a book I had of the Statue of Liberty.  What fascinated me was that in a close up you could see people in the torch Liberty held overhead.  I couldn't understand quite how that was possible.

I visited New York many times over the years and on the one occasion I had the time to visit the statue, it was closed for maintenance; so I've never made the trip let alone gone up into the torch.
The other day I saw printed in the paper the poem that is written on the base - a little old fashioned but moving sentiments nonetheless.  It was written by Emma Lazarus in 1883:

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame

With conquering limbs astride from land to land

Here at our sea-washed 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!"