text_original: Tis but a moment s freedom : soon the mind Hears the recalling bugle, and the brow Harbors the old illusion; soon the Wind Is on the dust delivered unto dream, And I am I again, and Thou art Thou, Who then were one in a diviner Scheme.
text_transcription: TIS BUT A MOMENT'S FREEDOM SOON THE MIND HEARS THE RECALLING BUGLE AND THE BROW HARBOURS THE OLD ILLUSION SOON THE WIND IS ON THE DUST DELIVERED UNTO DREAM AND I AM I AGAIN AND THOU ART THOU WHO THEN WERE ONE IN A DIVINER SCHEME
phonemes: tˈɪz bˌʌt ɐ mˈoʊmənt ˈɛs fɹˈiːdəm : sˈuːn ðə mˈaɪnd hˈɪɹz ðə ɹᵻkˈɔːlɪŋ bjˈuːɡəl, ænd ðə bɹˈaʊ hˈɑːɹbɚz ðɪ ˈoʊld ɪlˈuːʒən; sˈuːn ðə wˈɪnd ɪz ɔnðə dˈʌst dᵻlˈɪvɚd ˌʌntʊ dɹˈiːm, ænd aɪɐm aɪ ɐɡˈɛn, ænd ðˈaʊ ˈɑːɹt ðˈaʊ, hˌuː ðˈɛn wɜː wˈʌn ɪn ɐ dᵻvˈɪnɚ skˈiːm.