• Author: Anon
• Editor: B-7413
• Newspaper: The Umpire volume V
• Page Number:
• Date: 3 6 1918
• Tags:
• poetry

A GOLDEN RULE

When I find myself sitting in judgment On the faults of a brother man When I’m tempted to censure his follies, And harshly his conduct to scan; When I tell him, “You should do that way,” And morally certain ‘tis true: I remember how many do likewise. And cry to myself, “Now do you?’’

If I notice my friend getting reckless And making too free with his cash: If another appears rather heady And a little inclined to be rashed; If one wastes and one hoards and one borrows In a manner I think they must rue; I am somewhat disposed to excuse them When I say to myself, ‘‘Haven’t you?”

Is a neighbor exacting and selfish? Is he haughty, disdaining, ‘‘the mob?” Is he a meddlesome, clumsy, intrusive, Or a bigot, a pendant, or snob? Is he shallow, unsteady, or stupid? And I find myself taking that view: I revert to the sins that beset me, And say to myself, “Are not you?”

—Anon.