SWEET are the manners of the wood, <br />Our only old society, <br />Where all the folk are glad and good <br />In unrebuked variety. <br />Within this gentle commonweal <br />No envy falls with fairy gold <br />On jewel-weed and Solomon's seal, <br />Moth mullein and marsh marigold. <br />No rubied vines despise the lot <br />Of ragged neighbors; whether moss <br />Be flat or tufted matters not, <br />Pale peat or glittering feather-moss. <br />The common milkwort holds estates <br />And wears his purple royalty; <br />The bluets keep their ancient traits <br />With quiet Quaker loyalty. <br />These families of long descent, <br />Our tutors in amenities, <br />Have pedigrees of such extent <br />They well may share serenities. <br />Ere first the hollow Catacombs <br />Thrilled to a Christian litany <br />There bloomed beside the redmen's homes <br />Spicebush and fragrant dittany. <br />This rock's huge shadow rested on <br />Gentian and nodding trillium <br />Before the rise of Babylon, <br />Before the fall of Ilium.<br /><br />Katharine Lee Bates<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/our-first-families/
