At last she sought out Memory, and they trod
The same old paths where love had walked with Hope,
And Memory fed the soul of Love with tears.
Tennyson, “The Lover’s Tale.”
The following paraphrase is from the German of Lessing:
While Fell was reposing himself on the hay
A reptile concealed bit his leg as he lay;
But all venom himself, of the wound he made light,
And got well, while the scorpion died of the bite.
Similar is the last stanza of Goldsmith’s “Elegy on the death of a Mad Dog” in the “Vicar of Wakefield:”