From over the leagues of ice and snow, and the miles of scorching sand; <br />From back of the days of long ago, and the lonely sea and land— <br />To the end of the world and our Gipsy race, to the death of our dark-eyed line, <br />I have set the lines on my children’s palms as my fathers did on mine, <br />That the world shall know and my name shall glow in the light of the aftershine— <br />I have set the lines on my children’s palms as my fathers did on mine. <br />I have given them health and strength, pure blood, clear skins for a glorious youth; <br />I have set in their souls contempt for sham, and a deathless regard for truth; <br />I have bequeathed the spirit to fight, I have given the will to rise, <br />And the slumbering fires of Hate and Love in their dreaming, dreaming eyes. <br />That the world shall know and my name shall glow in the light of the aftershine, <br />I have set the lines on my children’s palms as my fathers did on mine. <br /> <br />I have given the love for their native land, wherever that land may be <br />(My children came from the East, my friends, and round by the Northern Sea), <br />And a son of a son of mine enemy, to the end of his treacherous line, <br />Shall be stricken to earth, if he dare but speak, by a son of a son of mine. <br />That the world shall know and my name shall glow in the light of the aftershine, <br />I have set the lines on my children’s palms as my fathers did on mine.<br /><br />Henry Lawson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-patteran/
