Oh, breathe not his name! let it sleep in the shade,

Where cold and unhonour'd his relics are laid,

Thomas Moore (1779-1852): Oh breathe not his Name.

Bright-eyed Fancy, hov'ring o'er,

Scatters from her pictured urn

Thoughts that breathe and words that burn.

Thomas Gray (1716-1771): The Progress of Poesy. III. 3, Line 2.

How dull it is to pause, to make an end,

To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use,—

As tho' to breathe were life!

Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892): Ulysses.