His Brother’s Keeper
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!
poem by Henry Lawson
Added by Poetry Lover
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