text_original: Perchance it is his form alone Doth stroke his hound, at meat doth sit, And, for the soul that was his own, A fiend awhile inhabits it; While he sinks through the fiery throng, Down, to fill an evil bond, Since false conceit of others' wrong Hath wrought him to a sin beyond.
text_transcription: PERCHANCE IT IS HIS FORM ALONE DOTH STROKE HIS HOUND AT MEAT DOTH SIT AND FOR THE SOUL THAT WAS HIS OWN A FIEND AWHILE INHABITS IT WHILE HE SINKS THROUGH THE FIERY THRONG DOWN TO FEEL AN EVIL BOND SINCE FALSE CONCEIT OF OTHER'S WRONG HATH WROUGHT HIM TO A SIN BEYOND
phonemes: pɚtʃˈæns ɪɾ ɪz hɪz fˈɔːɹm ɐlˈoʊn dʌθ stɹˈoʊk hɪz hˈaʊnd, æt mˈiːt dʌθ sˈɪt, ænd, fɚðə sˈoʊl ðæt wʌz hɪz ˈoʊn, ɐ fˈiːnd ɐwˈaɪl ɪnhˈæbɪts ɪt; wˌaɪl hiː sˈɪŋks θɹuː ðə fˈaɪɚɹi θɹˈɔŋ, dˈaʊn, tə fˈɪl ɐn ˈiːvəl bˈɑːnd, sˈɪns fˈɔls kənsˈiːt ʌv ˈʌðɚz ɹˈɔŋ hæθ ɹˈɔːt hˌɪm tʊ ɐ sˈɪn bᵻjˈɔnd.