 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 allowances 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 look 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 the triumph and disaster and treat those two imposters just the same. If you can hear the truth you've spoken twisted by naves to make a trap for fools. Or watch the things you gave your life for broken. And stoop and build them up with worn out tools. If you can make one heap of all your winnings and risk it on one turn of pigeon toss. And lose and start again at the beginning. 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 done. 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 40 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.