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!
Rudyard Kipling