I have read a lot of posts discussing the influences behind this episode. But where do the writers get the name for it?

Every Sherlock episode title is derived from either the canon stories (ASiP, ASiB, THoB, TEH, TSoT, HLV) or things related (TGG, TRF, MHR, TAB) to the Holmes stories. But it looks like this episode is based on one of ACD’s other work.

Turns out Sir Arthur Conan Doyle wrote a poem in 1898 named The Blind Archer and can you guess what it’s about? In a nutshell, the poem says that you can’t help who you fall in love with. Here the blind archer is obviously Cupid. What I found interesting in the poem is that among other ‘unfortunate’ victims of Cupid one is a veteran who can’t believe that he is falling in love. Then there’s this isolated man who feels that he must not fall in love because he’s planning a celibate vow and has duties to do. Remind you of anyone?

So what do you think? Just yet another coincidence in the so very lazy Sherlock universe?

Full poem from online-literature.com under the cut:

Little boy Love drew his bow at a chance,

Shooting down at the ballroom floor;

He hit an old chaperone watching the dance,

And oh! but he wounded her sore.

'Hey, Love, you couldn’t mean that!

Hi, Love, what would you be at?’

No word would he say,

But he flew on his way,

For the little boy’s busy, and how could he stay?

Little boy Love drew a shaft just for sport

At the soberest club in Pall Mall;

He winged an old veteran drinking his port,

And down that old veteran fell.

'Hey, Love, you mustn’t do that!

Hi, Love, what would you be at?

This cannot be right!

It’s ludicrous quite!’

But it’s no use to argue, for Love’s out of sight.

A sad-faced young clerk in a cell all apart

Was planning a celibate vow;

But the boy’s random arrow has sunk in his heart,

And the cell is an empty one now.

'Hey, Love, you mustn’t do that!

Hi, Love, what would you be at?

He is not for you,

He has duties to do.’

'But I AM his duty,’ quoth Love as he flew.

The king sought a bride, and the nation had hoped

For a queen without rival or peer.

But the little boy shot, and the king has eloped

With Miss No-one on Nothing a year.

'Hey, Love, you couldn’t mean that!

Hi, Love, what would you be at?

What an impudent thing

To make game of a king!’

'But I’M a king also,’ cried Love on the wing.

Little boy Love grew pettish one day;

'If you keep on complaining,’ he swore,

'I’ll pack both my bow and my quiver away,

And so I shall plague you no more.’

'Hey, Love, you mustn’t do that!

Hi, Love, what would you be at?

You may ruin our ease,

You may do what you please,

But we can’t do without you, you dear little tease!’