If you can keep your head when all
around 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 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 imposters 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 stop and build 'em up with
wornout 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 you can fill the unfirgiving 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!
RUDYARD KIPLING
