text_original: Eastward the everlasting fountains welled Till o'er my rest the dayspring's golden tide On hills that are and nearer seas was whirled; But sealed within my haunted brows I held The forms that pass, the shadows that abide.
text_transcription: EASTWARD THE EVERLASTING FOUNTAIN SWELLED TILL OVER MY REST THE DAY SPRING'S GOLDEN TIDE ON HILLS THAT ARE AND NEARER SEAS WAS WHIRLED BUT SEALED WITHIN MY HAUNTED BROWS I HELD THE FORMS THAT PASS THE SHADOWS THAT ABIDE
phonemes: ˈiːstwɚd ðɪ ˌɛvɚlˈæstɪŋ fˈaʊntɪnz wˈɛld tˈɪl ˈɔːɹ maɪ ɹˈɛst ðə dˈeɪspɹɪŋz ɡˈoʊldən tˈaɪd ˌɔn hˈɪlz ðæt ɑːɹ ænd nˈɪɹɚ sˈiːz wʌz wˈɜːld; bˌʌt sˈiːld wɪðˌɪn maɪ hˈɔːntᵻd bɹˈaʊz aɪ hˈɛld ðə fˈɔːɹmz ðæt pˈæs, ðə ʃˈædoʊz ðæt ɐbˈaɪd.