text_original: Praised be the moon of books! that doth above A world of men, the sunken Past behold, And colour spaces else too void and cold, To make a very heaven again thereof; As when the sun is set behind a grove, And faintly unto nether ether rolled, All night, his whiter image and his mould Grows beautiful with looking on her love.
text_transcription: PRAISED BE THE MOON OF BOOKS THAT DOES ABOVE A WORLD OF MAN THE SUNKEN PAST BEHOLD AND COLOR SPACES ELSE TOO VOID AND COLD TO MAKE A VERY HEAVEN AGAIN THEREOF AS WHEN THE SUN IS SET BEHIND THE GROVE AND FAINTLY UNTO NEVER ETHER ROLLED ALL NIGHT HIS WHITER IMAGE AND HIS MOULD GROWS BEAUTIFUL WITH LOOKING ON HER LOVE
phonemes: pɹˈeɪzd biː ðə mˈuːn ʌv bˈʊks! ðæt dʌθ əbˌʌv ɐ wˈɜːld ʌv mˈɛn, ðə sˈʌŋkən pˈæst bᵻhˈoʊld, ænd kˈʌlɚ spˈeɪsᵻz ˈɛls tˈuː vˈɔɪd ænd kˈoʊld, tə mˌeɪk ɐ vˈɛɹi hˈɛvən ɐɡˈɛn ðɛɹˈɑːv; æz wɛn ðə sˈʌn ɪz sˈɛt bᵻhˌaɪnd ɐ ɡɹˈoʊv, ænd fˈeɪntli ˌʌntʊ nˈɛðɚɹ ˈiːθɚ ɹˈoʊld, ˈɔːl nˈaɪt, hɪz wˈaɪɾɚɹ ˈɪmɪdʒ ænd hɪz mˈoʊld ɡɹˈoʊz bjˈuːɾifəl wɪð lˈʊkɪŋ ˌɔn hɜː lˈʌv.