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If, by Rudyard Kipling
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 imposters 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 breath 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!
A coworker who is attempting to pursue me romantically sent this to me today. It was part of his signature file which followed an invitation to watch the national college football championships tonight.
Fortunately, I had other plans, but I had not been familiar with Kipling's poem. So I did some searching and found this.
According to Wikipedia, Mr. Kipling has had some awkward misfortunes to come across as racist. Darn those Nazis from tainting the use of the Swastika!
Anyway, when I sent him a copy of the article from BBC, he took the poem out of his signature. It's not like I was placing a judgement on the poem, but it has an interesting history.
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 imposters 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 breath 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!
A coworker who is attempting to pursue me romantically sent this to me today. It was part of his signature file which followed an invitation to watch the national college football championships tonight.
Fortunately, I had other plans, but I had not been familiar with Kipling's poem. So I did some searching and found this.
According to Wikipedia, Mr. Kipling has had some awkward misfortunes to come across as racist. Darn those Nazis from tainting the use of the Swastika!
Anyway, when I sent him a copy of the article from BBC, he took the poem out of his signature. It's not like I was placing a judgement on the poem, but it has an interesting history.
no subject
Date: 2006-01-05 01:52 am (UTC)no subject
--yansa!
no subject
Date: 2006-01-06 02:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-05 06:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-06 02:31 am (UTC)