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When you get what you want in your struggle with life,
And the world makes you king for a day,
Then go to the mirror and look at yourself,
And see what that guy has to say.

For it isn't your father, or mother, or wife,
Whose judgment upon you must pass;
The fellow whose verdict counts most in your life
Is the man staring back from the glass.

He's the man to please, never mind all the rest;
For he stays with you to the end;
And you've passed your most dangerous, difficult test,
If the man in the glass is your friend.

You may mimic Jack Horner and chisel a plum,
And think you're a wonderful guy;
But the man in the glass says you're only a bum,
If you can't look him straight in the eye.

You can fool the whole world down the pathway of years,
And get pats on the back as you pass;
But your final reward will be heartaches and tears
If you've cheated the man in the glass.


I took a piece of plastic clay
And idly fashioned it one day
And as my fingers pressed it still,
It moved and yielded to my will.
I came again when days were past,
That bit of clay was hard at last.
The form I gave it still it bore,
But I could change that form no more.

I took a piece of LIVING clay,
And gently formed it day by day,
And molded with my power and art,
A young child's soft and yielding heart.
I came again, when years were gone,
It was a man I looked upon;
He still that early impress bore,
And I could change it nevermore.

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