'T is immortality to die aspiring,
As if a man were taken quick to heaven.
Conspiracy of Charles, Duke of Byron. Act i. Sc. 1.
Give me a spirit that on this life's rough sea
Loves t' have his sails fill'd with a lusty wind,
Even till his sail-yards tremble, his masts crack,
And his rapt ship run on her side so low
That she drinks water, and her keel plows air.
Tragedy of Charles, Duke of Byron. Act iii. Sc. 1.
He is at no end of his actions blest