The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1836-11-18 00:00:00

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WINTER.
Opprest with care, with lengthened toil opprest,
Trembling 1 see thee, Winter, as along
The leafless wood thou mov'st, thy pale form bent
To the rude gale, which round thee with hoarse song
Murmurs, playing as if in idle scorn
With thy hoar locks, and thy sad aged heart,
Yet why despond 9 Bowed as thou art and torn
By time, thou vet again to life shalt start
Beauteous as SPRING. And thus could I repose
Calmly in slumbers cold, and death's long gloom,
If all forgetful of my former woes,
I could like thee, Winter, spurn the tomb.
Then be thou welcome, Death, whose wintry night,
Leads to an endless Spring of true delight.

VERAX.

THE WREATH OF FAME.

BY C. SWAIN.
(From the " Forget Me Nut," for 1837.)

He told me of a laurel wreath
That he would bring ere long :
He told me that young Fame should breathe—
Should love his name and song :
And there was feeling in his tone,
And rapture in his eye,
A passion like an Angel's own,
For things that could not die.

He told me we should dwell with love
In some most dear retreat ;
With evening's starry smile above,
And flowers around our feet ;
My faithful page his greyhound fleet,
O'er Nature's beauties free;
Whilst he would have attendants sweet,
The nightingale and me.

lie came : he brought the laurel wreath—
But dim that altered eve ;
And weak the voice that loved to breathe
Of things that could not die.
'Oh ! Death entwined his wreath of Fame,
Which many a heart bereaves ;
For, though there's glory in its name,
There's poison in its leaves.

THE PRINCE OF THE STORM.

BY THE SAMIL
I was born in a cloud of sulphureous hue—
Darkness my mother, and Flame my sire :
The earth shook in terror, as forth to its view
I sprang from my throne like a monarch of fire !
My brother, bold Thunder, hurracd as I sped I
My subjects laugh'd wild, till the rain from their eves
Itoll'd fast, as though torrents were dash'd over-hen
Or an ocean had burst through the bounds of the skies !
I am Prince of the Storm—of the Cloud—of the Air--
I strike the firm oak that doth ages defy ;
And lo in an instant 'tis shatter'd and bare !
For the Lanceman of Death, the red Lightning am I !

Hurrah! what a whirling and rush o'er the land;
Like the cannon of battle the dark mountains roar ;
.Whilst around, with my lance of fire in my hand,
I scatter wild havoc behind and before !
Hurrah for the forest ! with sounds like the ocean,
The boughs heave in billows and groan in the blast!
Then, silent as death, not a branch seen in motion,
They breathless look up when the„tetnr•
Oh! I'm Prince Of.llßiAnge...s defy,
tim'airl.—o"fithe Cloud,
I stri‘le, the,_,,tall.nYatant 'tis shiver'd and'howed-
-2'.l`tie -Lanceman of Death, the red Lightning am I

LITERARY NOTICES,
BLACKWOOD'S MAGAZINE.
We have read, and read with great interest, the last
number of Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine. Many
of the articles are of national importance, and are dis-
-cussed with an ability that becomes that importance—
profound views correctly drawn, and just sentiments ener-
getically expressed, distinguish this number. The first
paper itself is sufficient to tempt us out beyond the Ii
mits of a newspaper notice—" State of Education in
France." Whether that country, long the seat of civil
war, and still exposed to its convulsions, will submit to
have the minds of all its subjects disciplined according to
a national system of education, is to us questionable.
Perhaps the projector of the design took Sparta for his
model. But this is not to apply the steady light of his-
tory to illuminate succeeding generations; but to educe
from it an ignis fatuus that will lead to fatal issues.
There is no parity between France and Lacedwmon.
Perhaps some late, and not forgotten disorders in the
colleges of Germany, have led France to take the impor-
tant engine of education under its control, in order that
all its movements may be subordinate to state purposes.
But we must refer to the article itself for a complete ex-
position of the subject.
The article entitled " The House of Peers" deserves
a careful perusal by every one who wishes to form a cor-
rect judgment upon that important subject, from a well-
digested summary of past and passing events—it is full of
constitutional wisdom, and pregnant with great political
truths—the progress of conservatism in England is for-
cibly exhibited, and the best directory afforded to render
its advance still more rapid and successful.
" The World we live in"—the next article—reminds
us of a powerful steam engine in action with only half
its work upon it. The style is graceful and powerful,
"without o'erflowing full ;" and although the subjects
canvassed are greatly important in their issues, yet there
is infused into the discussion of them so lively an inte-
rest, that he must be fastidious indeed who derives no
pleasure from their perusal. "To catch the manners
'living as they rise" is always a pleasing employment, and
when " the world we live in" is laid under contribution,
and made to answer its exactions, as in this essay, we are
sure to have variety and novelty sufficient to keep up
excitement.
On the paper entitled the "Metaphysician" we dare
not enter with any minute particularity; the view taken
of " conception" is nearly identical with that of Watts;
upon the subject of "judgment" there'is some origina-
lity, but we do not exactly follow him to his conclusion.
Upon this interesting section of metaphysics we have
thought much and published something, and should be
glad (were we to consult our own inclination) to go into
a critical examination of this part of this well-written
and clear-headed paper.
The remaining articles of the magazine are all corn-
Tanjong moving in the same elegant circle of literature,
•and worthy of that portion of the society of which we
have made a brief mention.