Gaily into Ruislip Gardens br Runs the red electric train, br With a thousand Ta's and Pardon's br Daintily alights Elaine; br Hurries down the concrete station br With a frown of concentration, br Out into the outskirt's edges br Where a few surviving hedges br Keep alive our lost Elysium - rural Middlesex again. br br Well cut Windsmoor flapping lightly, br Jacqmar scarf of mauve and green br Hiding hair which, Friday nightly, br Delicately drowns in Dreen; br Fair Elaine the bobby-soxer, br Fresh-complexioned with Innoxa, br Gains the garden - father's hobby - br Hangs her Windsmoor in the lobby, br Settles down to sandwich supper and the television screen. br br Gentle Brent, I used to know you br Wandering Wembley-wards at will, br Now what change your waters show you br In the meadowlands you fill! br Recollect the elm-trees misty br And the footpaths climbing twisty br Under cedar-shaded palings, br Low laburnum-leaned-on railings br Out of Northolt on and upward to the heights of Harrow hill. br br Parish of enormous hayfields br Perivale stood all alone, br And from Greenford scent of mayfields br Most enticingly was blown br Over market gardens tidy, br Taverns for the bona fide, br Cockney singers, cockney shooters, br Murray Poshes, Lupin Pooters, br Long in Kelsal Green and Highgate silent under soot and stone.