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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 3024 | 2018-02-12 14:22:24 | 65.92 | 96% |
| 2924 | 2018-02-10 14:41:02 | 67.06 | 95% |