If

If you can keep your head,
when all about you
Are loosing 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,
and don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good,
nor talk too wise…
If you can dream,
and not make dream 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 wornout tools.
If you can make 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 breath 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 for 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 not 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!