Here you will find thePoemHis Brothers Keeperof poet Henry Lawson
By his paths through the parched desolation, Hot rides and the terrible tramps; By the hunger, the thirst, the privation Of his work in the further most camps. By his worth in the light that shall search men And prove ? ay! And justify each ? I place him in front of all churchmen Who feel not, who know not ? but preach!
