text_original: To feed the inward fires that burn, The far off knowledge seek/' * If ye would win the gift within, — So toil for many a day, — And yet, forsooth, the truest truth May come by other way. " Oh ! thin the line this world that parts From other worlds, be sure ; And strange things drop within the hearts,  The open hearts and pure."
text_transcription: TO FEED THE INWARD FIRES THAT BURN THE FAR OFF KNOWLEDGE SEEK IF YE WOULD WIN THE GIFT WITHIN SO TOIL FOR MANY A DAY AND YET FORSOOTH THE TRUEST TRUTH MAY COME BY OTHER WAY O THIN THE LINE THIS WORLD THAT PARTS FROM OTHER WORLDS BE SURE AND STRANGE THINGS DROP WITHIN THE HEARTS THE OPEN HEARTS AND PURE
phonemes: tə fˈiːd ðɪ ˈɪnwɚd fˈaɪɚz ðæt bˈɜːn, ðə fˈɑːɹ ˈɔf nˈɑːlɪdʒ sˈiːk slˈæʃ ˈæstɚɹˌɪsk ɪf jiː wʊd wˈɪn ðə ɡˈɪft wɪðˈɪn, — sˌoʊ tˈɔɪl fɔːɹ mˈɛni ɐ dˈeɪ, — ænd jˈɛt, fɔːɹsˈuːð, ðə tɹˈuːəst tɹˈuːθ mˈeɪ kˈʌm baɪ ˈʌðɚ wˈeɪ. " ˈoʊ ! θˈɪn ðə lˈaɪn ðɪs wˈɜːld ðæt pˈɑːɹts fɹʌm ˈʌðɚ wˈɜːldz, biː ʃˈʊɹ ; ænd stɹˈeɪndʒ θˈɪŋz dɹˈɑːp wɪðˌɪn ðə hˈɑːɹts,  ðɪ ˈoʊpən hˈɑːɹts ænd pjˈʊɹ."