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 too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or beeng 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 imposters just The same; If you can bear the hear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or Whach the thinks your gave your life to, broken, And stop 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-tass, And lose, and start again at your begginings And never breath a word about your loss; If you can force your heard and nerves 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 seys 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 man 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 an everything that's in it, And - which is more - you'll be a MAN, my son! Rudiard Kipling