text_original: Filling the spirit with tones of prayer  Whatever tale in the bell is heard, lie broods on his folded feet unstirr'd, Oi, rising half in his rounded nest. He takes the time to smooth his breast.
text_transcription: FILLING THE SPIRIT WITH TONES OF PRAYER WHATEVER TALE IN THE BELL IS HEARD HE BROODS ON HIS FOLDED FEET UNSTIRRED OR RISING HALF IN HIS ROUNDED NEST HE TAKES THE TIME TO SMOOTH HIS BREAST
phonemes: fˈɪlɪŋ ðə spˈɪɹɪt wɪð tˈoʊnz ʌv pɹˈɛɹ wʌtˈɛvɚ tˈeɪl ɪnðə bˈɛl ɪz hˈɜːd, lˈaɪ bɹˈuːdz ˌɔn hɪz fˈoʊldᵻd fˈiːt ʌnstˈɜːd, ˈɔɪ, ɹˈaɪzɪŋ hˈæf ɪn hɪz ɹˈaʊndᵻd nˈɛst. hiː tˈeɪks ðə tˈaɪm tə smˈuːð hɪz bɹˈɛst.