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 imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truths 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.
If any line that I ever penned, Or any word I have spoken, Has comforted heart of foe or friend -
In any way, why my life, I'll say, Has reaped the reward of labour, If aught I have said, or written, has made
Gladder the heart o' my neighbour.
If any deed that I ever did Lightened a sad heart's sorrow,
If I have lifted a drooping lid Up to the bright to-morrow, Though the world knows not, nor gives me a thought, Nor ever can know, nor praise me,
Yet still I shall say, to my heart alway, That my life and labour repay me.
If in any way I have helped a soul, Or given a spirit pleasure, Then my cup of joy, I shall think, is full
With an overflowing measure. Though never an eye but the one on high
Looks on my kindly action, Yet, O my heart, we shall think of our part
In the drama, with satisfaction.