Out in the far gray horizon
Come a faint, weird muffled cry,
Wild gees flying in formation
Form a V high in the sky.
Instinct keeps them ever migrating,
One lone leader guides their flight,
All pursuing, dauntless enduring,
Not diverging day or night.
Men, like geese, must have a leader,
Courageous, sagacious, dynamically strong,
That no schism grows internal,
And their days be free and long.