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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 6584 | 2019-02-17 19:10:14 | 82.55 | 97% |
| 1761 | 2017-12-27 13:27:36 | 68.35 | 96% |