To Bishop Valentine thenne hies

Ye Youthe, ye Damosel likewyse,

Ande each ’gan tell hys tayle of griefe.

Each sayd ye other was ye thiefe.

“Zounds!” cried ye Sainte, “this brawle must cease.

I’ll binde ye bothe to keepe ye peace.”

Whereat ye twain in nowyse loath,

“Pray then wyth one bond binde us bothe.”

Loude laughed ye Sainte, “Perdi! ’Tis done!”

And made ye Youthe and Mayden one.

Lady, anent this suit of mine

In search of precedents, I waded

Through ancient lore, and found this fine

Old Judgment, in a parchment faded.

If you will ponder the last line

And be by wise example aided,

We, too, will make Saint Valentine

Our Judge, and—compromise, as they did.