text_original: Far journeys and hard wandering Await him in whose crude surmise Peace, like a mask, hides everything That is and has been from his eyes; And all his wisdom is unfound, Or like a web that error weaves On airy looms that have a sound No louder now than falling leaves.
text_transcription: FAR JOURNEYS AND HARD WANDERING AWAIT HIM IN WHOSE CRUDE SURMISE PEACE LIKE A MASK HIDES EVERYTHING THAT IS AND HAS BEEN FROM HIS EYES AND ALL HIS WISDOM IS UNFOUND OR LIKE A WEB THAT ARROW WEAVES ON AIRY LOOMS THAT HAVE A SOUND NO LOUDER NOW THAN FALLING LEAVES
phonemes: fˈɑːɹ dʒˈɜːniz ænd hˈɑːɹd wˈɔndɚɹɪŋ ɐwˈeɪt hˌɪm ɪn hˌuːz kɹˈuːd sɚmˈaɪz pˈiːs, lˈaɪk ɐ mˈæsk, hˈaɪdz ˈɛvɹɪθˌɪŋ ðæt ɪz ænd hˈæzbiːn fɹʌm hɪz ˈaɪz; ænd ˈɔːl hɪz wˈɪzdəm ɪz ʌnfˈaʊnd, ɔːɹ lˈaɪk ɐ wˈɛb ðæt ˈɛɹɚ wˈiːvz ˌɔn ˈɛɹi lˈuːmz ðæt hæv ɐ sˈaʊnd nˈoʊ lˈaʊdɚ nˈaʊ ðɐn fˈɔːlɪŋ lˈiːvz.