A Word To Two Young Ladies.

WHEN tender Rose-trees first receive     On half-expanded Leaves, the Shower;     Hope's gayest pictures we believe,     And anxious watch each coining flower.     Then, if beneath the genial Sun     That spreads abroad the full-blown May,     Two infant Stems the rest out-run,     Their buds the first to meet the day,     With joy their op'ning tints we view,     While morning's precious moments fly:     My pretty Maids, 'tis thus with you;     The fond admiring gazer, I.     Preserve, sweet Buds, where'er you be;     The richest gem that decks a Wife;     The charm of female modesty:     And let sweet Music give it life.     Still may the favouring Muse be found:     Still circumspect the paths ye tread:     Plant moral truths in Fancy's ground;     And meet old Age without a dread.     Yet, ere that comes, while yet ye quaff     The cup of Health without a pain,     I'll shake my grey hairs when you laugh,     And, when you sing, be young again.     Both the young Ladies had addressed to me a few complimentary lines, (and I am sorry that those of the elder sister were never in my possession;) in return for which I sent the above. It was received on the day on which the younger completed her ninth year. Surely it cannot be ascribed to vanity, if, in gratitude to a most amiable family, I here preserve verbatim an effort of a child nine years old. I hare the more pleasure in doing it, because I know them to be her own. R.B.     "Accept, dear Bard, the Muse's genuine thought,     And take not ill the tribute of my heart: -     For thee the laureat wreath of praise I'll bind,     None that have read thy commendable mind     Can let it pass unnotic'd - nor can I -     For by thy lays I know thy sympathy." F.P.