Oh lady fair, so haughty, and so coldly proud,
Entreat though I may, naught it seems can ever pierce
The adamantine shell that guards your cruel soul,
And even my most honeyed words are all in vain.
However hard I strive to rise above the crowd
Of those that press about your feet, whose cries so fierce
Each clamour to be heard and were I to enroll
The gods above, my suit would surely end in pain.
In truth, I do not ask for much, no special place,
But though I send not gifts of silver or gold,
Nor even as some do, a wreath of flowers fine;
Just for one day to gaze upon your lovely face,
Is all I wish, for it would give me joy untold
If you would only let me call you Valentine.

Alas I fear, my cause is doomed right from the start,
And other men with louder voice, and better claim,
Are better placed to woo you by their skillful art.
But I refrain to join them in their spiteful game,
For they desire to hold and bind you to their will,
And thus enslave you for their pleasure and delight,
Only to discard you when they have drunk their fill
Of your bright charms, to weep alone in darkest night.
This is my pledge if for a moment you relent,
And grant my earnest wish, secretly to consent,
For one day only to be my sweet Valentine;
At that day's end, all future claim I will resign,
Happy that for those few hours you were mine alone,
Joyful that my poor words could melt your shell of stone.