You’ll be, my girl, the model for the sages. The plan that’s been developed through the ages,Īnd win the best that life can have in store, If sometime you should meet and love anotherĪnd make a home with faith and peace enshrined,Īnd you its soul-a loyal wife and mother. If you can be a friend and hold no grudges,Ī girl whom all will love because they must If you can make good bread as well as fudges,Ĭan sew with skill and have an eye for dust,
If you can feel the touch of silk and satinĬan do a man’s work when the need occurs,Ĭan sing when asked, without excuse or stammer,Ĭan rise above unfriendly snubs and slurs If you can master French and Greek and Latin,Īnd not acquire, as well, a priggish mien, Play without giving play too strong a hold,Įnjoy the love of friends without romancing,Ĭare for the weak, the friendless and the old If you can dance without a craze for dancing, If you can swim and row, be strong and active,īut of the gentler graces lose not sight Yet not make puffs and curls your chief delight If you can dress to make yourself attractive, Part of it is engraved on the entrance to Wimbledon to remind players of what it is that makes a man. This poem, published three years after he won the Nobel Prize, encapsulates the lessons he learned and considered to be the keys to his success. His life was one replete with trials, hardships, and sorrows, which one could never fault anyone for crumbling beneath, but time and time again he overcame. When he failed the physical, Kipling used his connections to get him in, only to watch him die in the battle for Loos leaving him awash in guilt. An avowed proponent of British involvement in World War One, he encouraged his son John to enlist. The wheel continued to turn, however, and in 1907 he was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature for his outstanding work. On a trip to America in 1899 his daughter Josephine died of pneumonia at the age of seven, leaving him heartbroken. He again hit a low when he became embroiled in a fight with his brother-in-law, which landed both in court and in local papers, forcing his move back to England. He moved to America and continued writing, publishing The Jungle Books together with much else. He was struck by misfortune once more when the bank where he kept his savings collapsed, leaving him penniless. After that period he was transferred to a school in Devon where he shone, becoming the editor of the school paper and embarking on his path as a writer, becoming a major success. His only break during that period was the holiday month of December, when he would head to London to stay with his mother's family. His first five years in England were scarred by the terrible abuse he endured there from his foster mother. His childhood would continue for a short period along an upward slope in the wonderland where he was born, and then plunge dramatically at the age of six when he was sent to England for his education. The chart would have to start on a high point: his birth in India to a loving set of parents. Were you to write the biography of Rudyard Kipling as a graph, the first thing that would strike you would be the steep vertical zigzags. Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,Īnd - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son! With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, If all men count with you, but none too much: If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch, If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, To serve your turn long after they are gone,Īnd so hold on when there is nothing in youĮxcept the Will which says to them: "Hold on!" If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew If you can make one heap of all your winningsĪnd risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,Īnd lose, and start again at your beginnings,Īnd never breathe a word about your loss: Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,Īnd stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken If you can meet with Triumph and DisasterĪnd treat those two impostors just the same. If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim, If you can dream - and not make dreams your master
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,Īnd yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,īut make allowance for their doubting too: If you can keep your head when all about you
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