text_original: Are those the stars, and not their furious eyes, That now before her coming chariot glare"? Is that their nebulous, phantasmal breath Trailed like a mist upon the winter skies. Or vapors from a Titan's pyre of death — Far wafted on the orbit of Altair?
text_transcription: ARE THOSE THE STARS AND NOT THEIR FURIOUS EYES THAT NOW BEFORE HER COMING CHARIOT GLARE IS THAT THEIR NEBULOUS PHANTESMAL BREATH TRAILED LIKE A MIST UPON THE WINTER SKIES OR VAPORS FROM THE TAN'S PYRE OF DEATH FAR WAFTED ON THE ORBIT OF ALTAIR
phonemes: ɑːɹ ðoʊz ðə stˈɑːɹz, ænd nˌɑːt ðɛɹ fjˈʊɹɹiəs ˈaɪz, ðæt nˈaʊ bᵻfˌɔːɹ hɜː kˈʌmɪŋ tʃˈæɹiət ɡlˈɛɹ"? ɪz ðæt ðɛɹ nˈɛbjʊləs, fˈæntæzməl bɹˈɛθ tɹˈeɪld lˈaɪk ɐ mˈɪst əpˌɑːn ðə wˈɪntɚ skˈaɪz. ɔːɹ vˈeɪpɚz fɹʌm ɐ tˈaɪtənz pˈaɪɚɹ ʌv dˈɛθ — fˈɑːɹ wˈæftᵻd ɔnðɪ ˈɔːɹbɪt ʌv ˈɔːltɛɹ?