text_original: Then mark the cloven sphere that holds All thought in its mysterious folds, That feels sensation's faintest thrill, And flashes forth the sovereign will; Think on the stormy world that dwells Locked in its dim and clustering cells!
text_transcription: THEN MARK THE CLOVEN SPHERE THAT HOLDS ALL THOUGHT IN ITS MYSTERIOUS FOLDS THAT FEELS SENSATION'S FAINTEST THRILL AND FLASHES FORTH THE SOVEREIGN WILL THINK ON THE STORMY WORLD THAT DWELLS LOCKED IN ITS DIM AND CLUSTERING CELLS
phonemes: ðˈɛn mˈɑːɹk ðə klˈoʊvən sfˈɪɹ ðæt hˈoʊldz ˈɔːl θˈɔːt ɪn ɪts mɪstˈɪɹiəs fˈoʊldz, ðæt fˈiːlz sɛnsˈeɪʃənz fˈeɪntɪst θɹˈɪl, ænd flˈæʃᵻz fˈɔːɹθ ðə sˈɑːvɚɹˌɪn wˈɪl; θˈɪŋk ɔnðə stˈɔːɹmi wˈɜːld ðæt dwˈɛlz lˈɑːkt ɪn ɪts dˈɪm ænd klˈʌstɚɹɪŋ sˈɛlz!