To Serena on her Birth Day in the year 1769
Ungratefull Girl! can you expect
My Compliments this day
When you my fond request neglect
Nor write the Friendly Lay?
That Lay which you Twelve-Months ago
Promised to dedicate,
Yet you forget what now you owe
Or cry, “It’s out of Date?”
Tho’ of your Pen unworthy far
The Subject of your Verse,
The fewer her perfections are
The easier to rehearse.
You need not prostitute your Muse
I Flattery despise,
Nor praises of a Friend I chuse,
Sincerity I prize.
What her Maria does require
Serena can deny,
Our Love I to the World desire
Your Verse should testifie.
My motive I confess is this
I’m of your Friendship proud,
Nor is the vanity amiss
If any is allow’d.
Tho’ nothing moves you to comply
You’d justly take it ill
Did I not on your Birth Day try
The Muses’ feeble skill.
Should I in sharp Satyric Lay
Lampoon you for your slight?
Instead of Panygyric – say,
Should I not serve you right?
But ne’re this Annual Sun shall shine
Neglected while I live,
Nor shall the day unsung decline
Which such a Friend did give.
The moment that I saw thy Face
Sweet Partner of my Breast,
And view’d each soft enchanting Grace
Of which thou art possess’d,
My Sympathetic Soul did greet
Thine as its kindred Heart,
Since which we still with pleasure meet
And with regret we part.
Thy Sensibility of Care
Makes pain seem less severe,
And you alleviate while you share
And drop the pitying Tear.
And as you sooth each anxious thought
It doubles ev’ry bliss
To see those Eyes with pleasure fraught
Or feel the Friendly Kiss.
May you even to your Wish be blest
With Pleasure and with Wealth;
But Oh! by far above the rest
With Peace of Mind and Health.
That Peace which does from Virtue flow
And recollection sweet,
Which Health contributes to bestow
And make both Blessings meet.
1769
Text: Box 28, Reeves Collection, Bodleian Library; Whelan, Nonconformist Women Writers, vol. 4, pp. 169-71. Serena is unidentified, but according to another poem by Attwater, she turned 16 in 1769.