Time, the old humourist, has a trick to-day <br />Of moving landmarks and of levelling down, <br />Till into Town the Suburbs edge their way, <br />And in the Suburbs you may scent the Town. <br />With Mount Street thus approaching Muswell Hill, <br />And Clapham Common marching with the Mile, <br />You get a Hammersmith that fills the bill, <br />A Hampstead with a serious sense of style. <br />So this fair creature, pictured in The Row, <br />As one of that 'gay adulterous world,' whose round <br />Is by the Serpentine, as well would show, <br />And might, I deem, as readily be found <br />On Streatham's Hill, or Wimbledon's, or where <br />Brixtonian kitchens lard the late-dining air.<br /><br />William Ernest Henley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/london-types/
