text_original: III This carven column whereon monsters cling And twist among themselves with ravening jaws, They seem to pant, and grip with mighty claws, And from each other anguished cries to wring   This was my soul before it knew thyself, Oh, thou the ever new, the ever old! Who earnest forth to me from deeps of self Ardour between thy hands and joy untold.
text_transcription: ING THIS CARVEN COLUMN WHEREON MONSTERS CLING AND TWIST AMONG THEMSELVES WITH RAVENING JAWS THEY SEEMED TO PANT AND GRIP WITH MIGHTY CLAWS AND FROM EACH OTHER ANGUISHED CRIES TO RING THIS WAS MY SOUL BEFORE IT KNEW THYSELF O THOU THE EVER NEW THE EVER OLD WHO EARNEST FORTH TO ME FROM DEEPS OF SELF ARDOUR BETWEEN THY HANDS AND JOY UNTOLD
phonemes: ɹˌoʊmən θɹˈiː ðɪs kˈɑːɹvən kˈɑːlʌm wˈɛɹɑːn mˈɔnstɚz klˈɪŋ ænd twˈɪst ɐmˌʌŋ ðɛmsˈɛlvz wɪð ɹˈævənɪŋ dʒˈɔːz, ðeɪ sˈiːm tə pˈænt, ænd ɡɹˈɪp wɪð mˈaɪɾi klˈɔːz, ænd fɹʌm ˈiːtʃ ˈʌðɚɹ ˈæŋɡwɪʃt kɹˈaɪz tə ɹˈɪŋ ðɪs wʌz maɪ sˈoʊl bᵻfˌɔːɹ ɪt nˈuː ðaɪsˈɛlf, ˈoʊ, ðˈaʊ ðɪ ˈɛvɚ nˈuː, ðɪ ˈɛvɚɹ ˈoʊld! hˌuː ˈɜːnɪst fˈɔːɹθ tə mˌiː fɹʌm dˈiːps ʌv sˈɛlf ˈɑːɹdɚ bᵻtwˌiːn ðˌaɪ hˈændz ænd dʒˈɔɪ ʌntˈoʊld.