| PENOBSCOT U.S.A. |
| By Marie Mitchell Bridges |
| You've read the saga of Penobcot on the Bay, From its incorporation until today. We've seen it go up, we've seen it go down, But all in all, it's a darn good town. In times gone by, we had enterprise galore With saw mills, grist mills, and brickyards, more than four. Our stores then numbered more than six, Selling groceries, dry goods, and sundries, you take your pick. This all in 1787 did begin With Brooksville and Castine mingled in. We separated later to do our thing, And gathered about, Penobscot's praise to sing. The seasons have changed much to our delight, And the deep ice on the bay has since taken flight. No more can huge teams of horses and oxen Haul loads of lumber, wood and logs, To be shipped by freighters from the several warves. The skies then were as blue as today Reflected in the waters that ebb and flow in the Bay. Our one room shoolhouses, be that as it may, Habe given way to the beautiful structures we have today. But with the advent of cars and planes we're still in line Out unpolluted air still remains as of yore, We have no real industry and that we deplore. Two hundred years have brought many a change. But tides stll come and go, that we can't arrange. Time marches on, year after year, And those stalwart souls who founded it cannot be here. But we do salute each one of you, And thank God, Penobscot had such a good crew, May she continue to grow and grow, I'm sure 'twill still be on the map long after I go. May God go with you thru' the next hundred years, Keep it unblemished and without any fears. |