In The Parish of Saint Pancras of Rome

It was born of delay in 1862, when frustration turned to affray
Trains were halted on congested line, with delays so horrendous
That even the benign, deprived of their pleasure, appealed to persons exalted.

Travellers from Nottingham, Sheffield and Crewe were visiting the London Exhibition
But too many trains on a single line ignored inhibition and it grew into the
Relentless attrition of the Midland Railway Board 

A new line was required and terminal too, to avert eternal congestion
So they bought Agar Town by Regent's Canal and demolished it, void of salvation,
In order to build for the nation, a station so vast it received joyous ovation

Saint Pancras, a canopy of iron and glass spanned a space of record dimension
A towering tribute to wondrous design and the power of fearless intension
It stood unparalleled, unrivalled, a shrine to joyous invention

Some years later, in seventy six, the Midland Hotel was added
A new facade by Gilbert Scott, a Gothic cathedral with spires and a clock
A brazen peacock for all to admire

But then the pace began to slow and railway companies merged
Saint Pancras suffered as Euston grew and passenger numbers diminished
The hotel closed in thirty five with prosperity deemed finished

There came a call to tear it down and substitute with new
But outrage grew and plans were thwarted when Betjeman and Fawcett
Changed the course of history and forced a fresh review

And now we have a citadel, a tribute to all that was
For here, beneath this hallowed dome we communicate with Rheims and Rome
Disparagement safely resisted by a future Grade I listed