Posted on 06/02/2010 2:51:43 PM PDT by Kimmers
IF
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 all 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!
--Rudyard Kipling
IF 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 all 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!
--Rudyard Kipling
I thought this was an interesting obituary. Told me some things about him I never knew. He was certainly a colorful character.
http://www.washingtontimes.com/news/2010/may/29/dennis-hopper-creator-hit-easy-rider-dies/
Namgay Doola
being Irish I always loved this one
The poem originally appeared in Rewards and Fairies as one of the epigraphs bracketing the stories. "If" is after the story "Brother Squaretoes" and it refers to ... George Washington, who appears in the story along with Chief Cornplanter, apothecary Tobias Hirte, and Talleyrand. It's a great book and has some fabulous poetry.
Thank you for that information. I have more reading to do.
/johnny
/johnny
I have a partial set of Kipling's Authorized edition that was published in the early 20's, but it's not complete and the volumes are in bad shape.
All of my modern (50s-80s) Kipling compilations are still on the shelf.
/johnny
That is hillarious...
And now, “The Man’s song.”
What a Poem. He will be missed .
[Mrs]T
Speaking of The Man Song, man, ever hear The Woman Song, man.
BTW, Rudyard is my very most favorite poet .... man.
I didn’t know you were an Empire Man. I always liked “Tommy”
I went into a public-’ouse to get a pint o’ beer,
The publican ‘e up an’ sez, “We serve no red-coats here.”
The girls be’ind the bar they laughed an’ giggled fit to die,
I outs into the street again an’ to myself sez I:
O it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ “Tommy, go away”;
But it’s “Thank you, Mister Atkins”, when the band begins to play,
The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
O it’s “Thank you, Mister Atkins”, when the band begins to play.
or
“The Young British Soldier”
If your officer’s dead and the sergeants look white,
Remember it’s ruin to run from a fight:
So take open order, lie down, and sit tight,
And wait for supports like a soldier.
Wait, wait, wait like a soldier . . .
When you’re wounded and left on Afghanistan’s plains,
And the women come out to cut up what remains,
Jest roll to your rifle and blow out your brains
An’ go to your Gawd like a soldier.
Go, go, go like a soldier,
Go, go, go like a soldier,
Go, go, go like a soldier,
So-oldier ~of~ the Queen!
Check out post 8 - The Power of the Dog.
I love dogs. Wife won’t let me have one.
:-(
Her answer:
“So why inHeaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?”
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