With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, If all men count with you, but none too much If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch, If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
To serve your turn long after they are gone,Īnd so hold on when there is nothing in youĮxcept the Will which says to them: "Hold on!" If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew If you can make one heap of all your winningsĪnd risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,Īnd lose, and start again at your beginningsĪnd never breathe a word about your loss Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,Īnd stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools: Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
If you can meet with Triumph and DisasterĪnd treat those two impostors just the same If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim If you can dream - and not make dreams your Or being lied about, don't give way to hating,Īnd yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise: If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,īut make allowance for their doubting too "If you can keep your head when all about you
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