Modern Penelope

What did she mean by that crochet work ?
The work that never got done,
Lolling as indolent as a Turk,
Looking demure as a Nun :
What subtle mystery might lurk
(Of course there must be one)
In that Penelope web of work,
The work that never got done ?

She lolled on the low couch just under the light
So very serene and staid :
We had some other guests that night,
One sang, another played,
A couple discovered the stars were bright,
Of course a youth and a maid,
I watched her knitting under the light
So very serene and staid.

I knew that she was a rogue in her heart,
As roguish as ever could be,
And she knew that I knew, yet would not dart
A single glance at me,
But seemed as it were withdrawn apart
Amid the companie,
A nun in her face, with a rogue in her heart
As roguish as ever could be.

I like a riddle when its knot
Involves a pretty girl,
I puzzle about, now cold, now hot,
Through every loop and twirl,
For the question is " Who " as well as " What " ?
And the answer is thus a pearl,
And really you cannot study the knot,
Unless you study the girl.

With a graceful lazy kittypuss air
She fingered the net and the ball :
At first she started to work on the square,
And then she undid all :
To make it round was next her care,
But the progress was strangely small,
With a graceful lazy kittypuss air
Trifling with net and ball.

About her lips a quiet smile
Came hovering, then took rest :
A butterfly in the selfsame style
Will choose some sweet flower's breast :
Her eyes were drooping all the while,
But the drooping lids expressed
The satisfaction of a smile
Like a butterfly at rest.

Her hands kept floating to and fro
Like a pair of soft white doves,
In gentle dalliance coy and slow
Around a nest of Loves :
And against my chair her couch was low,
And six was the size of her gloves,
They were charming those hands there to and fro
Like a pair of soft white doves.

Her fair face opened like a flower,
And a sigh thrilled the smile on her lips,
And her eyes shone out with a dazzling power
From the dream of their half-eclipse
As she welcomed the trill of " A summer shower "
With plausive finger-tips —
Oh ! her eyes so bright, and her face like a flower,
And the exquisite smile of her lips !

Those hands kept floating soft and white
Our hearts to mesmerise,
Those dark eyes keep half-veiled their light
To lure and lure our eyes ;
That web is but a subtle sleight
To mesh us by surprise :
Do I not read your riddle right,
Penelope the wise ?

O you nun in face with the rogue in your heart
As roguish as ever can be,
You have played an immensely wiser part
Than the old Penelope :
You have caught twin loves in the toils of your art,
And neither will ever get free :
You have won the game of a heart for a heart,
And when shall the settling be ?