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!