text_original: Swinging censers of perfume Sweet as fragrant winds of May Blowing through spring's secret bowers ; Yet so phantom  like were they That they seemed the ghosts of flowers. 298 A DREAM OF SONGS UNSUNG Oh, the music sweet and strange In that land's enchanted range
text_transcription: SWINGING CENSERS OF PERFUME SWEET AS FRAGRANT WINDS OF MAY BLOWING THROUGH SPRING'S SECRET BOWERS YET SO PHANTOM LIKE WERE THEY THAT THEY SEEMED THE GHOST OF FLOWERS OH THE MUSIC SWEET AND STRANGE IN THAT LAND'S ENCHANTED RANGE
phonemes: swˈɪŋɪŋ sˈɛnsɚz ʌv pˈɜːfjuːm swˈiːt æz fɹˈeɪɡɹənt wˈɪndz ʌv mˈeɪ blˈoʊɪŋ θɹuː spɹˈɪŋz sˈiːkɹᵻt bˈaʊɚz ; jˈɛt sˌoʊ fˈæntəm lˈaɪk wɜː ðeɪ ðæt ðeɪ sˈiːmd ðə ɡˈoʊsts ʌv flˈaʊɚz. tˈuːhˈʌndɹɪd nˈaɪnti ˈeɪt ɐ dɹˈiːm ʌv sˈɔŋz ʌnsˈʌŋ ˈoʊ, ðə mjˈuːzɪk swˈiːt ænd stɹˈeɪndʒ ɪn ðæt lˈændz ɛntʃˈæntᵻd ɹˈeɪndʒ