text_original: Runs to a fret of speed like a racing wheel, Which else were aslumber along with the whole Of the dark, swinging rhythmic instead of a reel. Is chafed to anger, bursts into rage like thunder; Which else were a silent grasp that held the heavens Arrested, beating thick with wonder.
text_transcription: RUNS TO A FRET OF SPEED LIKE A RACING WHEEL WHICH ELSE WERE SLUMBER ALONG WITH THE WHOLE OF THE DARK SWINGING RHYTHMIC INSTEAD OF A REEL IS CHAFED TO ANGER BURSTS INTO RAGE LIKE THUNDER WHICH ELSE WERE SILENT GRASP THAT HELD THE HEAVENS ARRESTED BEATING THICK WITH WONDER
phonemes: ɹˈʌnz tʊ ɐ fɹˈɛt ʌv spˈiːd lˈaɪk ɐ ɹˈeɪsɪŋ wˈiːl, wˌɪtʃ ˈɛls wɜːɹ ɐslˈʌmbɚɹ ɐlˈɔŋ wɪððə hˈoʊl ʌvðə dˈɑːɹk, swˈɪŋɪŋ ɹˈɪðmɪk ɪnstˈɛd əvɚ ɹˈiːl. ɪz tʃˈeɪft tʊ ˈæŋɡɚ, bˈɜːsts ˌɪntʊ ɹˈeɪdʒ lˈaɪk θˈʌndɚ; wˌɪtʃ ˈɛls wɜːɹ ɐ sˈaɪlənt ɡɹˈæsp ðæt hˈɛld ðə hˈɛvənz ɚɹˈɛstᵻd, bˈiːɾɪŋ θˈɪk wɪð wˈʌndɚ.