text_original: And you, whom Pluto's helm does wisely shroud From us, the blind and thoughtless crowd, Like the famed hero in his mother's cloud, Who both our follies and impertinences see, Do laugh perhaps at theirs, and pity mine and me.
text_transcription: AND YOU WHOM PLUTO'S HELM DOES WISELY SHROUD FROM US THE BLIND AND THOUGHTLESS CROWD LIKE THE FAMED HERO IN HIS MOTHER'S CLOUD WHO BOTH OUR FOLLIES AND IMPERTINENCES SEE DO LAUGH PERHAPS AT THEIRS AND PITY MINE AND ME
phonemes: ænd juː, hˈuːm plˈuːɾoʊz hˈɛlm dˈʌz wˈaɪzli ʃɹˈaʊd fɹʌm ˌʌs, ðə blˈaɪnd ænd θˈɔːtləs kɹˈaʊd, lˈaɪk ðə fˈeɪmd hˈiəɹoʊ ɪn hɪz mˈʌðɚz klˈaʊd, hˌuː bˈoʊθ ˌaʊɚ fˈɑːliz ænd ɪmpˈɜːtɪnənsᵻz sˈiː, dˈuː lˈæf pɚhˈæps æt ðˈɛɹz, ænd pˈɪɾi mˈaɪn ænd mˌiː.