“Her bulk of beauty, her stupendous grace Challenged the lion heart in his puny dust. Proudly his Moment looked him in the face: He rose to meet it as a hero must; Climbed the white mountain of unravished snow, Planted his tiny flag upon the peak. {{pb}} The smooth drifts, scarcely breathing, lay below. She did not take the trouble to smile or speak. And afterwards, it may have been in play, The enormous girl rolled over and squashed him flat; And as she could not send him home that way, Used him thereafter as a bedside mat.”