text_original: Suddenly out of the shifting veil A magical bark, by the sunbeams lit, Flits like a dream,  or seems to flit,   With a golden prow and a gossamer sail, And the waves make room for it.
text_transcription: SUDDENLY OUT OF THE SHIFTING VALE A MAGICAL BARK BY THE SUNBEAM SLIT FLITS LIKE A DREAM OR SEEMS TO FLIT WITH A GOLDEN PROW AND THE GOSSAMER SAIL AND THE WAVES MAKE ROOM FOR IT
phonemes: sˈʌdənli ˌaʊɾəv ðə ʃˈɪftɪŋ vˈeɪl ɐ mˈædʒɪkəl bˈɑːɹk, baɪ ðə sˈʌnbiːmz lˈɪt, flˈɪts lˈaɪk ɐ dɹˈiːm,  ɔːɹ sˈiːmz tə flˈɪt,   wɪð ɐ ɡˈoʊldən pɹˈaʊ ænd ɐ ɡˈɑːsəmɚ sˈeɪl, ænd ðə wˈeɪvz mˌeɪk ɹˈuːm fɔːɹ ɪt.