By: Frank Maguire 1970
(From the story told by Frank W. P. Bailey)

Once, in ages long forgotton, when the white men were but legends,
And the rushing springtime waters formed the highways of our fathers,
When the forests teemed with turkey, and with deer and elk and beaver,
And the shellfish of the oceans were a food well-made for feasting;

In those days the hemlock forests, and the pines and oaks and maples
Covered mountain slopes and valleys with a velvet coat of green.
Then the many tribes of Indians lived a life serene and peaceful,
The Abnakis and the Micmacs each on their own grounds remaining.

Long this happy age continued, without threat of war or famine,
For the braves who roamed these forests were at peace with all their brothers;
‘Til one day, a ship arriving gave an omen of the future,
That the strange white men who landed would bring more of their own people,
They would claim the tribal holdings, and disperse the woodland nations.

Even as it was predicted, the great tide of white men started,
And their settlements grew quickly, spreading out across the forests.
These were men of many nations, and they sought the red men’s service.
But for warlike aims they sought them, and they saw the red men dying.
Many years of bloodshed passing, the once peaceful tribes of Indians
Were enslaved, or dead, or homeless, and their councils met no longer

One there was among these remnants of the tribes which thrived no longer,
One whose memory kept the image of the great tribes of his fathers;
He was called Madockawanda, one who loved his people dearly,
One whose plan to help his people was yet great, and wise, and daring.
And the chief, Madockawanda, planned to join his Indian brothers
In a new and stronger nation, in a nation full of promise.
Thus he sought through all the region, men whose memory of their fathers
Had instilled in them traditions of the tribes which roamed the forests;
Men whose spirit was unbroken, and who loved their Indian brethren.

Seeking these, he slowly molded, from the worn and scattered fragments
Of the once unconquered nations, a tribe of brave young warriors.
With their wives and with their children, with their memories and dreams.
And as time went on this tribe grew from a meager band of planners
To a nation with a strong voice, to a nation called Penobscot.

"Add one, and stick together," was the motto of their chieftain,
And he carried out this motto, ‘til the many tribes of Maine
Were part of a federation to protect them from their enemies.
Thus the fearful, scattered pieces of the tribes which ruled the forests
Were united through the efforts of a wise and powerful chieftain.
Thus a dreamer and a planner showed the worth of dreams and planning.
And the brave men who worked with him found esteem among their tribesmen.

The great nations of the red men are now but a fading memory,
But the struggles of their leaders, truly fighting for their birthright,
Can show us, who now succeed them, how to hope and plan and strive.