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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 7908 | 2019-08-31 23:58:46 | 75.27 | 97% |
| 2225 | 2018-08-05 15:28:39 | 70.94 | 97% |