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 about you
and you take in consideration their doubts
If you can wait without getting tired
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 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!
