Loading
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 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 you can stay calm while everyone around you is losing their composure and blaming you; If you can have faith in yourself when others doubt you, but also understand their doubts:
If you can be patient and not weary of waiting, or when others lie about you, don’t respond with lies, or when you are hated, don’t succumb to hatred, and yet don’t appear too proud or speak too wisely:
If you can dream—and not let dreams control you; If you can think—and not let thoughts be your goal; If you can face both success and failure and treat those two deceivers equally:
If you can endure hearing the truth you’ve spoken twisted by dishonest people to trap the foolish, or see the things you dedicated your life to, destroyed, and bend down to rebuild them with worn-out tools:
If you can gather all your winnings into one pile and gamble it on a single chance, and lose, and begin again from your start and never mention your loss;
If you can compel your heart and strength to work for you long after they are gone, and keep going when you feel empty except for the Will that tells you: ‘Keep going!’
If you can converse with crowds and maintain your morals, or walk with royalty—without losing your humility, If neither enemies nor dear friends can harm you, If everyone values you, but not too much;
If you can make the most of every unforgiving minute with sixty seconds’ worth of effort, the Earth and everything in it will be yours, and—which is even more—you’ll be a Man, my son!