IF, By Rudyard Kipling

Rudyard Kipling, 1865 - 1936
"IF"

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 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 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!