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Font Help Kipling Tennis Poem Font. Any ideas?

jc_0125

Creative Director
Looking for the font style of the attached. It's the Triumph and Disaster Kipling Tennis Poem. Any input is greatly appreciated!
 

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SignosaurusRex

Active Member
No perfect matches here. Most likely hand lettered.
Closest I find would be Lynton BQ.
Other options might be using
Goudy Old Style
Iowan Old Style
Italian Garamond
 

jc_0125

Creative Director
No perfect matches here. Most likely hand lettered.
Closest I find would be Lynton BQ.
Other options might be using
Goudy Old Style
Iowan Old Style
Italian Garamond
My thoughts too in regard to the hand lettered part.

Thanks though for the font suggestions!
 

James Burke

Being a grandpa is more fun than working
I've never seen so much truth crammed into such an itty bitty sentence.


JB
 
Last edited:

James Burke

Being a grandpa is more fun than working
The poem is entitled "If". What a treasure....thanks for sharing...albeit unintentionally.

JB

"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 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 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!
 
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