Classic Poem

I have so many faults myself
I seldom ever see
A defect in another's life
But what I see in me,
I make so many rash mistakes
I feel condemned to find
A bit of fault in everyone
When I'm so far behind.

I used to censure everyone;
I was a Pharisee,
Until quite unexpectedly
I got a glimpse of me,
I tried to justify myself
And frame some alibi;
But here I stood, caught by myself
And I to me won't lie.

And now whenever I'm inclined
Some other's judge to be,
I always go and take a look
At him whom I call me,
I find it is a splendid thing—
Just try it and you'll see—
To keep from criticizing folk,
Let each “I” look at “Me.”