text_original: With half drooped lids, and smooth, round brow, And eye remote, that inly sees Fair Beatrice's spirit wandering now In some sea lulled Hesperides, Thou movest through the jarring street, Secluded from the noise of feet By her gift blossom in thy hand, Thy branch of palm from Holy Land;   No trace is here of ruin's fiery sleet.
text_transcription: WITH HALF DROOPED LIDS AND SMOOTH ROUND BROW AND EYE REMOTE THAT IN THESE SEAS FAIR BEATRICE'S SPIRIT WANDERING NOW IN SOME SEA LULLED HESPERRIEDES THOU MOVEST THROUGH THE JARRING STREET SECLUDED FROM THE NOISE OF FEET BY HER GIFT BLOSSOM IN THY HAND THY BRANCH OF PALM FROM HOLY LAND NO TRACES HERE OF RUIN'S FIERY SLEET
phonemes: wɪð hˈæf dɹˈuːpt lˈɪdz, ænd smˈuːð, ɹˈaʊnd bɹˈaʊ, ænd ˈaɪ ɹᵻmˈoʊt, ðæt ˈɪnli sˈiːz fˈɛɹ bˈiətɹɪsᵻz spˈɪɹɪt wˈɔndɚɹɪŋ nˈaʊ ɪn sˌʌm sˈiː lˈʌld hˈɛspɚɹˌaɪdz, ðˈaʊ mˈuːvɛst θɹuː ðə dʒˈɑːɹɹɪŋ stɹˈiːt, sᵻklˈuːdᵻd fɹʌmðə nˈɔɪz ʌv fˈiːt baɪ hɜː ɡˈɪft blˈɔsəm ɪn ðˌaɪ hˈænd, ðˌaɪ bɹˈæntʃ ʌv pˈɑːm fɹʌm hˈoʊli lˈænd;   nˈoʊ tɹˈeɪs ɪz hˈɪɹ ʌv ɹˈuːɪnz fˈaɪɚɹi slˈiːt.