text_original: The midnight hushes all; The winds are dumb; Eastward, Orion treads the mountain wall. But lol what visitant is on the gloom*? Beauty and mystery and terror meet At this her chosen seat: The writhing fog is come. White as the moon's cold hands Laid on a marble tomb.
text_transcription: THE MIDNIGHT HUSHES ALL THE WINDS ARE DUMB EASTWARD ORION TREADS THE MOUNTAIN WALL BUT LO WHAT VISITANT IS ON THE GLOOM BEAUTY AND MYSTERY AND TERROR MEET AT THIS HER CHOSEN SEAT THE RISING FOG IS COME WHITE AS THE MOON'S COLD HANDS LAID ON A MARBLE TOMB
phonemes: ðə mˈɪdnaɪt hˈʌʃᵻz ˈɔːl; ðə wˈɪndz ɑːɹ dˈʌm; ˈiːstwɚd, ɔɹˈaɪən tɹˈɛdz ðə mˈaʊntɪn wˈɔːl. bˌʌt lˈɑːl wʌt vˈɪzɪtənt ɪz ɔnðə ɡlˈuːm ˈæstɚɹˌɪsk? bjˈuːɾi ænd mˈɪstɚɹi ænd tˈɛɹɚ mˈiːt æt ðɪs hɜː tʃˈoʊzən sˈiːt: ðə ɹˈaɪðɪŋ fˈɑːɡ ɪz kˈʌm. wˈaɪt æz ðə mˈuːnz kˈoʊld hˈændz lˈeɪd ˌɔn ɐ mˈɑːɹbəl tˈuːm.