Kumnaa

Day 554, 15:06 • Published in United Kingdom United Kingdom • by Bob Boblo

Kumnaa can keep his head when all about him
Are losing theirs and blaming it on him,
Kumnaa can trust himself when all men doubt him,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
Kumnaa can wait and not be tired by waiting,
And be lied about, and not deal in lies,
And be hated, and not give way to hating,
And yet not look too good, nor talk too wise:

Kumnaa can dream - and not make dreams his master;
Kumnaa can think - and not make thoughts his aim;
Kumnaa can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
Kumnaa can bear to hear the truth hes spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
And watch the things hes given his e-life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

Kumnaa can make one heap of all his winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at his beginnings
And never breathe a word about his loss;
Kumnaa can force his heart and nerve and sinew
To serve his turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in him
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

Kumnaa can talk with crowds and keep his virtue,
And walk with Kings without losing the common touch,
Neither foes nor loving friends can hurt him,
And all men count with him, but none too much;
Kumnaa can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
His should be Downing Street and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - he'll be a president, my son!