text_original: Lastly, where keep the winds their revelry, Their violent turnings, and wild whirling hays, But in the air's translucent gallery, THE SEAKOXS. 127 Where she herself is turned a hundred ways, While with these maskers wantonly she plays?
text_transcription: LASTLY WHERE KEEP THE WINDS THEIR REVELRY THEIR VIOLENT TURNINGS AND WILD WHIRLING HAZE BUT IN THE AIR'S TRANSLUCENT GALLERY WHERE SHE HERSELF IS TURNED A HUNDRED WAYS WHILE WITH THESE MASCAS WANTONLY SHE PLAYS
phonemes: lˈæstli, wˌɛɹ kˈiːp ðə wˈɪndz ðɛɹ ɹˈɛvəlɹi, ðɛɹ vˈaɪələnt tˈɜːnɪŋz, ænd wˈaɪld wˈɜːlɪŋ hˈeɪz, bˌʌt ɪnðɪ ˈɛɹz tɹænslˈuːsənt ɡˈælɚɹi, ðə sˈiːkɑːksz. wˈʌnhˈʌndɹɪd twˈɛnti sˈɛvən wˌɛɹ ʃiː hɜːsˈɛlf ɪz tˈɜːnd ɐ hˈʌndɹɪd wˈeɪz, wˌaɪl wɪð ðiːz mˈæskɚz wˈɔntənli ʃiː plˈeɪz?