Classic Poem

In far Australia's middle region lies
A stony desert, treeless, hot and bare;
All hope to pass it in the traveler dies;
No brook, nor stream, nor native well is there.
So do we in our lives some desert meet
Which seems impassable, so wild and drear,
Untrodden yet, perchance, by human feet;
Where naught is found the sinking heart to cheer.
Yet He who to such pass our steps may bring,
When human help shall fail, will grant his own;
E'en in the wild will show some cooling spring,
Nor leave us there to perish, weak, alone;
But guide our steps, if we but trust His care,
Beyond its bounds to pastures green and fair.