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!
Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
---|---|---|---|
38 | 2018-10-29 12:10:44 | 38.54 | 93% |