Thomas Wyatt the Elder is regarded as the first poet to bring the sonnet form to England. I've always liked sonnets, because they're pretty much designed to get into someone's pants. Wyatt translated the sonnets of Petrarch, and then wrote many of his own (maybe to Anne Boleyn) like this one:
ABIDE, and abide; and better abide,
After the old proverb the happy day
And ever my Lady to me doth say,
"Let me alone, and I will provide."
I abide, and abide, and tarry the tide,
And with abiding speed well ye may.
Thus do I abide I wot alway,
N'other obtaining, nor yet denied.
Aye me! this long abiding
Seemeth to me, as who sayeth
A prolonging of a dying death,
Or a refusing of a desired thing.
Much were it better for to be plain,
Than to say, "Abide," and yet not obtain.
Whew! There's nothing like a bout of "long abiding" to give a guy some serious grief! He wrote you a SONNET for crying out lout! Have sex with him already!
(Ed. note: It has come to my attention that this is actually Thomas Wyatt the Younger, Wyatt's son, of "Wyatt's Rebellion" fame. Whatever, he's sexier.)