If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can
when all men doubt you,
But
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
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
just the same;
If you can
to
the truth you've spoken
Twisted by
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
it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never
a word about your loss;
If you can force your
and
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
with
and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither
nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men
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!
