Happy the man whose wish and care
a few paternal acres bound,
content to breath his natures air
in his contented ground.
(The Quiet Life. Alexander Pope)
"Rays from the sunrise drew forth the buds and stretched them into long stalks, lifted up sap in noiseless streams, opened petals, and sucked out scents in invisible jets and breathings".
(Tess of the d'Urbervilles. Thomas Hardy)