There was a small boy of Quebec Who was buried in snow to the neck: When they said 'Are you friz?' He replied 'Yes, I is - But we don't call this cold in Quebec!'  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 away to hating And yet don't look too good nor talk to 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 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 breathe a word about your loss . . . 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! If you hit a pony over the nose at the outset of your acquaintance, he may not love you but he will take a deep interest in your movements ever afterwards. What should they know of England, who only England know? I keep six honest serving-men they taught me all I know; their names are What and Why and When and How and Where and Who, There are nine and sixty ways of constructing tribal lays, and every single one of them is right. Nations have passed away and left no traces, And history gives the naked cause of it - One single simple reason in all cases; They fell because their peoples were not fit. No one thinks of Winter when the grass is green. All the people like us are We, And everyone else is They. I keep six honest serving men. (They taught me all I know); Their names are What and Why and When and How and Where and Who. Gawd knows, and 'E won't split on a pal. Fill the unforgiving minute with sixty seconds worth of distance run. We have forty million reasons for failure, but not a single excuse. It's clever, but is it art? For the colonel's lady an' Judy O'Grady Are sisters under their skins. They're hangin' Danny Deever in the morning! Still stands thine ancient sacrifice— An humble and a contrite heart. Take up the white man's burden— Send forth the best ye breed— Go bind your sons to exile To serve your captives' need. Sing, for faith and hope are high— None so true as you and I— Sing the Lovers' Litany: "Love like ours can never die!" 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; Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And—which is more—you'll be a man, my son! Though I've belted you and flayed you, By the livin' Gawd that made you, You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din. Make ye no truce with Adam-zad—the Bear that walks like a man. If I were hanged on the highest hill, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! I know whose love would follow me still, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! The sin they do by two and two they must pay for one by one. For it's Tommy this an' Tommy that, and "Chuck 'im out, the brute." But it's "Savior of 'is country," when the guns begin to shoot. But that is another story. A woman is only a woman, but a good cigar is a smoke. Down to Gehenna or up to the throne, He travels the fastest who travels alone. A woman's guess is much more accurate than a man's certainty. An' I learned about women from 'er. The colonel's lady and Judy O'Grady Are sisters under their skins. For the female of the species is more deadly than the male. A rag and a bone and a hank of hair. A fool there was and he made his prayer (Even as you and I!) To a rag and a bone and a hank of hair (We called her the woman who did not care) But the fool he called her his lady fair— (Even as you or I!) Words are the most powerful drug used by mankind. And only the Master shall praise us, and only the Master shall blame; And no one shall work for money, and no one shall work for fame; But each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star, Shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of things as They Are! |