text_original: Down all the stretch of Hell to its Last gulf There is no shape more terrible than this— More tongued with censure of the world's blind greed — More tilled with signs and portents for the soul  More fraught with menace to the anivei What gulfs between him and the seraphim! Slave of the wheel of Labor, what to him 394 POEMS OF SENTIMENT. Are Plato and the swing of Pleiades
text_transcription: DOWN ALL THE STRETCH OF HELL TO ITS LAST GULF THERE IS NO SHAPE MORE TERRIBLE THAN THIS MORE TONGUED WITH CENSURE OF THE WORLD'S BLIND GREED MORE FILLED WITH SIGNS AND PORTENCE FOR THE SOUL MORE FRAUGHT WITH MENACE TO THE UNIVERSE WHAT GULFS BETWEEN HIM AND THE SERAPHIM SLAVE OF THE WHEEL OF LABOUR WHAT TO HIM ARE PLATO AND THE SWING OF PLAIARDS
phonemes: dˌaʊn ˈɔːl ðə stɹˈɛtʃ ʌv hˈɛl tʊ ɪts lˈæst ɡˈʌlf ðɛɹ ɪz nˈoʊ ʃˈeɪp mˈɔːɹ tˈɛɹᵻbəl ðɐn ðˈɪs— mˈɔːɹ tˈʌŋd wɪð sˈɛnʃɚɹ ʌvðə wˈɜːldz blˈaɪnd ɡɹˈiːd — mˈɔːɹ tˈɪld wɪð sˈaɪnz ænd pˈɔːɹtənts fɚðə sˈoʊl mˈɔːɹ fɹˈɔːt wɪð mˈɛnɪs tə ðɪ ˈænɪvˌeɪ wʌt ɡˈʌlfs bᵻtwˌiːn hˌɪm ænd ðə sˈɛɹəfɪm! slˈeɪv ʌvðə wˈiːl ʌv lˈeɪbɚ, wˌʌt tə hˌɪm θɹˈiːhˈʌndɹɪd nˈaɪnti fˈɔːɹ pˈoʊᵻmz ʌv sˈɛntɪmənt. ɑːɹ plˈɑːɾoʊ ænd ðə swˈɪŋ ʌv plˈaɪədiːz