text_original: Only our eyes are heavy and dim, and see not the glory of old, Dull are our ears that the seraphim sang to in years that are gone, And knowledge slow gathered with pain turns to bitter ashes and mould : — Out of darkness to darkness again, and the cur  tain that lifts not is drawn. As the beast dieth, dieth the race, — is there any pre  eminence there — Each lying low in his place in the impulsing bosom of earth
text_transcription: ONLY OUR EYES ARE HEAVY AND DIM AND SEE NOT THE GLORY OF OLD DULL ARE OUR EARS THAT THE SERAPHIM SANG TO IN YEARS THAT ARE GONE AND KNOWLEDGE SLOW GATHERED WITH PAIN TURNS TO BITTER ASHES AND MOULD OUT OF DARKNESS TO DARKNESS AGAIN AND THE CURTAIN THAT LIFTS NOT IS STRONG AS THE BEAST DIETH DIETH THE RACE IS THERE ANY PRE EMINENCE THERE EACH LYING LOW IN HIS PLACE IN THE UNPULSING BOSOM OF EARTH
phonemes: ˈoʊnli ˌaʊɚɹ ˈaɪz ɑːɹ hˈɛvi ænd dˈɪm, ænd sˈiː nˌɑːt ðə ɡlˈɔːɹi ʌv ˈoʊld, dˈʌl ɑːɹ ˌaʊɚɹ ˈɪɹz ðætðə sˈɛɹəfɪm sˈæŋ tʊ ɪn jˈɪɹz ðæt ɑːɹ ɡˈɔn, ænd nˈɑːlɪdʒ slˈoʊ ɡˈæðɚd wɪð pˈeɪn tˈɜːnz tə bˈɪɾɚɹ ˈæʃᵻz ænd mˈoʊld : — ˌaʊɾəv dˈɑːɹknəs tə dˈɑːɹknəs ɐɡˈɛn, ænd ðə kˈɜː tˈeɪn ðæt lˈɪfts nˌɑːt ɪz dɹˈɔːn. æz ðə bˈiːst dˈaɪəθ, dˈaɪəθ ðə ɹˈeɪs, — ɪz ðɛɹ ˌɛni pɹˈiː ˈɛmɪnəns ðˈɛɹ — ˈiːtʃ lˈaɪɪŋ lˈoʊ ɪn hɪz plˈeɪs ɪnðɪ ɪmpˈʌlsɪŋ bˈʊzəm ʌv ˈɜːθ