Classic Poem

R EADE one, and say, tis good; I beare the name:
Reade one, and say, tis ill; I beare the shame:
If thou sayst, good, and think'st it too in heart,
Sweetely farewell, no matter who thou art:
If thou sayst meane, thou judgest like a frend,
I would be so, because I meane to mend:
If thou sayst, ill, and doost in heart dispraise it,
I yeeld not till I know a Wiseman saies it.
Thus quit me, or condemne me, Ile not grudge,
So that I know a foole be not my Judge.