One fire burns out another's burning, One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish.
Then, going off, she sprinkled her with juice, / Which leaves of baneful aconite produce. / Touch'd with the pois'nous drug, her flowing hair / Fell to the ground, and left her temples bare; / Her usual features vanish'd from their place, / Her body lessen'd all, but most her face. / Her slender fingers, hanging on each side / With many joynts, the use of legs supply'd: / A spider's bag the rest, from which she gives / A thread, and still by constant weaving lives.
Can't I another's face commend, Or to her virtues be a friend, But instantly your forehead louers, As if her merit lessen'd yours?edward moore