text_original: What of the cradle roof, that tlies Forward and backward through the air? What does he thiuk of his mother's breast — Bare and beautiful, smooth and white, Seeking it ever with fresh delight— Tup of his life, and couch of his rest?
text_transcription: WHAT OF THE CRADLE ROOF THAT FLIES FORWARD AND BACKWARD THROUGH THE AIR WHAT DOES HE THINK OF HIS MOTHER'S BREAST BARE AND BEAUTIFUL SMOOTH AND WHITE SEEKING IT EVER WITH FRESH DELIGHT CUP OF HIS LIFE AND COUCH OF HIS REST
phonemes: wˌʌt ʌvðə kɹˈeɪdəl ɹˈuːf, ðæt tˈiːlˈaɪz fˈɔːɹwɚd ænd bˈækwɚd θɹuː ðɪ ˈɛɹ? wˌʌt dˈʌz hiː θˈɪʌk ʌv hɪz mˈʌðɚz bɹˈɛst — bˈɛɹ ænd bjˈuːɾifəl, smˈuːð ænd wˈaɪt, sˈiːkɪŋ ɪɾ ˈɛvɚ wɪð fɹˈɛʃ dᵻlˈaɪt— tˈʌp ʌv hɪz lˈaɪf, ænd kˈaʊtʃ ʌv hɪz ɹˈɛst?