Page:Poems By Chauncy Hare Townshend.djvu/110

86 ODE ON THE DIVERSITY Can words give name to every die, That tints the dawn, or western sky? And hath the mind less varied hues Beneath the influence of the Muse? Say, rather, she can gifts provide As infinitely modified, As notes, that rove thro' every key In never-ending harmony. Only for him, in whom all gifts combine, Bid the lyre answer to thy last command: "Tis he, who kindles, at Religion's shrine, The torch, thou gavest to his master-hand. His is the comprehensive chain, that binds, In one harmonious whole, the fair and sweet, And all the splendours, which thro' other minds Shine scatteringly, in him concentred meet. Ev'n as from storied windows richly dight The passing beams their varied colours win, Yet all combin'd transmit the soften'd light In service of the sanctuary within. To nature's wildest scenes full oft he wends, And at her altar bows th' adoring knee,