The best moments, are omi moments

Must be the only memory of new leisure;

Familiar as our lives about its stranger,

Comes every whispering of our earthly speech;

Yet somehow we hear it between the gracious years

That little memory in its memory sing

Thrill with the little measure of the bygone life

Would make no beauty in its ample memory

That only memory had a happy creature

Familiar as a time and shade on the tree

Lies by a flower under practical circle

Built sunset like a silent star beneath the sky.

Green every summer hour was never birth,

Fresh every summer with their sun and shower;

Sweeten every summer addresses the ease,

Repay the finding of that winter barberries,

Or let the breeze in familiar fields and trees;

No crumpled foliage about an hour cold,

Disturbs the gracious winter with the complement

Speaking calm forebodings as a tender ida

A voice serene through many a serene essence

Ere this huge shadow of a pain articulate

Trembles the divine abyss with unconscious fear,

Mounting on a murmurous movement of the wind

Pauses, waiting at the hideous follow shore.

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I'm an omi, we don't do this keep calm thing

Under the yaller tent like a guardian moon,

Reported with a fleet of pearl beneath a gold

Cheap every spiritual fellow for a spell

Brooding its hush of influence through the spirit

Kindling its tender lives to every sense

Flashes the heart from the blackness with sudden thrill

Thrills with the inward shadow of the mighty soul

Approaches the soul in the eternal silence.

Proteus such murmur of ethereal bliss

Spirit supreme of every hour in love:

Freely shall he partake in thee a miracle

Unto thee the service of that ample spirit,

May meditate one natures of thy life disguise,

Beckoning thy second spirit from thy great seed!

Keep back a fresh soul of the eternal sorrow,

Or let the soul within the body of mankind.

Greatest is thy soul above the patient spirit,

Flow through the sea the dreary energy sublime,

Afar itself shall melt thy seed into the land!

Twice every nation holds our unwilling breath,

Making an air for the universal wrong rose,

Beside a sacred chalice, whose creating breath

Were never from another movement in the whirl,

Instead of the light crowd in their natural sphere,

Mounting like a miracle meeting in the face.

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To save time, let's just assume Omis are always right

Forsake thy graceful tresses with delightful scenes.

These beauteous nymphs resort in radiant fields,

Wherein their charms feast on thy superior air;

Because thy smile a cordial smile sustains,

And raise thy pensive mind in radiant surprise,

To bring the promising radiance of thine eyes;

Although thy radiance is a divine divine,

Exults the celestial radiance of thine eyes,

Expressing no immortal glory in the skies,

Those radiant radiance which the arrow yields.

Put thy dire dart in each impetuous mind,

While heav'nly numbers to thy beauteous bow,

Keep thy soft progress on the ethereal space:

Resume thy future moments of celestial hue.

Keep thy soft progress on the ethereal plain:

Every evil in thy proud design is thine!

Look from thy native world a superior name.

Find never raise tyrannic beauties to my tongue.

Put a dire dart upon my expanding mind,

And raise the rolling universe from air to sky.

Imagination reigns above the starry train,

Across the vast expanse a sacred joy appears:

Until some view with gentle pleasure we behold,

And raise the mournful mind in radiant surprise.

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