A romantic affection for the past.  Which begs the question: "Why don't girls go train-spotting?"

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The diesel train is cleaner

And glides on silken rails,

But give me the age

Of the steam pressure gauge

And those desolate whistle-wails.

 

The electric train is quieter,

Driven by hidden power,

But give me the haze

From those faraway days

And the coal sparks' golden shower.

 

The turbine train is faster,

Its speed is a sign of the day;

But my memory turns back

To the "clickety-clack"

Of my boyhood's permanent way.

 

The billowing cloud from a boiler,

The hiss of escaping steam;

The smell and the feel

Of coal, oil and steel,

When man and machine were a team.