To a Lady, making her a present of Straw-Work

Let Straw no more in slighting Terms be nam'd,
What she accepts, grows worthy to be fam'd.
Let lab'rers beat the shining sheaf no more,
'Tis now priz'd higher than the Corn it bore.
From your fair hands I may this Knowledge draw;
Your Eyes attract my Heart, as those the Straw.
O happy product, which the Field has giv'n!
From earth it Sprung, but reaches now to Heaven.