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Henry Lawson - His Brother’s Keeper
Work rating: Low

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!
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