text_original: Here memory mocks the toil of genius. Christ Beamed on that cross; and pattern fails me now. But whoso takes his cross, and follows Christ, Will pardon me for that I leave untold, When in the fleckered dawning he shall spy The glitterance of Christ.
text_transcription: HERE MEMORY MOCKS THE TOIL OF GENIUS CHRIST BEAMED ON THAT CROSS AND PATTERN FAILS ME NOW BUT WHOSO TAKES HIS CROSS AND FOLLOWS CHRIST WILL PARDON ME FOR THAT I LEAVE UNTOLD WHEN IN THE FLACKERED DAWNING HE SHALL SPY THE GLITTERANCE OF CHRIST
phonemes: hˈɪɹ mˈɛmɚɹi mˈɑːks ðə tˈɔɪl ʌv dʒˈiːnɪəs. kɹˈaɪst bˈiːmd ˌɔn ðæt kɹˈɔs; ænd pˈætɚn fˈeɪlz mˌiː nˈaʊ. bˌʌt hˈuːsoʊ tˈeɪks hɪz kɹˈɔs, ænd fˈɑːloʊz kɹˈaɪst, wɪl pˈɑːɹdən mˌiː fɔːɹ ðæt aɪ lˈiːv ʌntˈoʊld, wˌɛn ɪnðə flˈɛkɚd dˈɔːnɪŋ hiː ʃˌæl spˈaɪ ðə ɡlˈɪɾɚɹəns ʌv kɹˈaɪst.