A poem by Mrs. Nethiah Hayward Thayer, via this website, reprinted here.
The Packards have gathered from near and far.
Father and mother and dear grandmama.
From Samuel we came, his name honored be.
A more goodly race not often you’ll see.
The lineal descent oft puzzled us sore.
For Packards and Howards were mixed o’er and o’er.
Now ’tis not Howard, Packard, and Jones.
But Packards with Porter, Glover, and Holmes
Goodly the race is that answers the call
To the name of Packard. B.W. and all.
We honor the fathers who fought, bled, and died.
No less, we honor these here by our side.
Davis and Moses and Winslow, we know.
Direct are from Samuel, who faced the foe;
Liberty, Wallace, Fred, and Josiah.
Martin and Robert. Ben and Uriah.
George A. — from the Heights all ready for fun.
Andrew and Elmer, we know every one;
They are here from the East, here from the West:
They are known unto us as good, better, and best.
And DeWitt is here, and Caleb near by;
They are Brockton’s jewels, we all testify;
Horace the doctor, and Ransom the strong.
Henry B. and Fred come marching along.
Simeon the aged, and Franklin his son.
Willard and Edmund — but we are done.
Name after name comes to mind.
To speak of them all no space we could find.
One word for the girls, the good Packard girls;
We seem them to-day with crimps and with curls.
The name they have lost, but loyal are still,
And never were known to do what was ill.
Adaline is here, well known to the fold
As our sweetest singer in times now old:
Josiah’s daughter we see here to-day.
Her pills and her pellets all cast away.
Our history fails to mention the name
Of Samuel’s wife, who has little fame;
We honor her too. She clothed and she fed.
Twelve children to her their daily prayers said.
Their old-fashioned names not all of us know,
But they were trained the right way to go.
Years passed away, the race multipled,
From coast to coast the Packards abide.
Our fathers are gone, their places we fill.
The acres they left we have them to till.
They left us the school, gave us Church and State;
These we will cherish, whatever our fate.
We bless our dear fathers, yes, every one;
Filial the heart of each daughter and son.
We meet here to-day glad praises to sing–
Praises to God, our Maker and King!
This poem was from a past Packard Celebration.