If you
can keep your head
when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on
you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt
you,
But make allowance for their doubting
too;
If you can wait and not be tired
by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t
deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to
hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk
too wise:
If you can dream - and
not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts
your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just
the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve
spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for
fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to,
broken,
And stoop and build ‘em up with worn-out
tools:
If you can make one heap
out of all your winnings
And risk it one on turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your
loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and
sinew
To serve your turn long after they
are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in
you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold
on!’
If you can talk with crowds
and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the
common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt
you,
If all men count with you, but none
too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance
run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s
in it,
And - which is more - you’ll be a
Man, my son!
(short version)
If you can wait and not
be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t
deal in lies,
Or watch the things you gave your life to,
broken,
And stoop and build ‘em up
with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap out of all your
winnings
And risk it one on turn of
pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about
your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and
sinew
To serve your turn long after
they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in
you
Except the Will which says
to them: ‘Hold on!’
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s
in it,
And - which is more - you’ll
be a Man, my son!
Rudyard Kipling