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 of all your winnings
And
risk it on one 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!
