text_original: _ And yet, how few believe such doctrine springs From a poor root Which all the winter sleeps here under foot, And hath no wings To raise it to the truth and light of things, But is still trod By every wandering clod!
text_transcription: AND YET HOW FEW BELIEVE SUCH DOCTRINE SPRINGS FROM A POOR ROOT WHICH ALL THE WINTER SLEEPS HERE UNDERFOOT AND HATH NO WINGS TO RAISE IT TO THE TRUTH AND LIGHT OF THINGS BUT IS STILL TROD BY EVERY WANDERING CLOD
phonemes: ænd jˈɛt, hˌaʊ fjˈuː bᵻlˈiːv sˈʌtʃ dˈɑːktɹɪn spɹˈɪŋz fɹʌm ɐ pˈʊɹ ɹˈuːt wˌɪtʃ ˈɔːl ðə wˈɪntɚ slˈiːps hˈɪɹ ˌʌndɚ fˈʊt, ænd hæθ nˈoʊ wˈɪŋz tə ɹˈeɪz ɪt tə ðə tɹˈuːθ ænd lˈaɪt ʌv θˈɪŋz, bˌʌt ɪz stˈɪl tɹˈɑːd baɪ ˈɛvɹi wˈɔndɚɹɪŋ klˈɑːd!