text_original: And who can say what luckier beam The hidden glory shall redeem, For what chance clod the soul may wait To stumble on its nobler fate, Or why, to his unwarned abode, Still by surprises comes the God?
text_transcription: AND WHO CAN SAY WHAT LUCKIER BEAM THE HIDDEN GLORY SHALL REDEEM FOR WHAT CHANCE CLOD THE SOUL MAY WAIT TO STUMBLE ON ITS NOBLER FATE OR WHY TO HIS UNWARNED ABODE STILL BY SURPRISES COMES THE GOD
phonemes: ænd hˌuː kæn sˈeɪ wʌt lˈʌkiɚ bˈiːm ðə hˈɪdən ɡlˈɔːɹi ʃˌæl ɹᵻdˈiːm, fɔːɹ wʌt tʃˈæns klˈɑːd ðə sˈoʊl mˈeɪ wˈeɪt tə stˈʌmbəl ˌɔn ɪts nˈoʊblɚ fˈeɪt, ɔːɹ wˈaɪ, tə hɪz ʌnwˈɔːɹnd ɐbˈoʊd, stˈɪl baɪ sɚpɹˈaɪzᵻz kˈʌmz ðə ɡˈɑːd?