John Donne

Sweetest love, I do not go,
         For weariness of thee,
Nor in hope the world can show
         A fitter love for me;
                But since that I
Must die at last, ’tis best
To use myself in jest
         Thus by feign’d deaths to die.
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/44128#poem