text_original: When wild conceits were piled in scores, And lit by flaring metaphors, When all was crazed and out of tune, — Yet throbbed with music of the moon.
text_transcription: WHEN WILD CONCEITS WERE PILED IN SCORES AND LIT BY FLARING METAPHORS WHEN ALL WAS CRAZED AND OUT OF TUNE YET THROBBED WITH MUSIC OF THE MOON
phonemes: wˌɛn wˈaɪld kənsˈiːts wɜː pˈaɪld ɪn skˈɔːɹz, ænd lˈɪt baɪ flˈɛɹɪŋ mˈɛɾəfˌɔːɹz, wˌɛn ˈɔːl wʌz kɹˈeɪzd ænd ˌaʊɾəv tˈuːn, — jˈɛt θɹˈɑːbd wɪð mjˈuːzɪk ʌvðə mˈuːn.