# If by Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you\
&#x20;  Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;\
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,\
&#x20;  But make allowance for their doubting too;\
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,\
&#x20;  Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,\
Or, being hated, don’t give way to hating,\
&#x20;  And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;\
&#x20;  If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;\
If you can meet with triumph and disaster\
&#x20;  And treat those two impostors just the same;\
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken\
&#x20;  Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,\
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,\
&#x20;  And stoop and build ’em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings\
&#x20;  And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,\
And lose, and start again at your beginnings\
&#x20;  And never breathe a word about your loss;\
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew\
&#x20;  To serve your turn long after they are gone,\
And so hold on when there is nothing in you\
&#x20;  Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on”;

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,\
&#x20;  Or walk with kings—nor lose the common touch;\
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;\
&#x20;  If all men count with you, but none too much;\
If you can fill the unforgiving minute\
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run—\
&#x20;  Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,\
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
