All is perfect in Boston
On the Commonwealth Avenue Mall, in Boston's Back Bay.
The people’s lives in Boston
Are flowers blown in glass;
On Commonwealth, on Beacon,
They bow and speak and pass.
No man grows old in Boston,
No lady ever dies;
No youth is ever wicked,
No infant ever cries.
From E.B. White’s poem “Boston Is Like No Other Place in the World Only More So,’’ published in the Sept. 23, 1949 New Yorker. Here’s the whole poem.