text_original: The roar of cataracts hurled in air, And the hurricane laying his thunders bare, And rush of battling beasts,  whose lair Was the antechamber of nadir gloom,   Were my outworld joys.
text_transcription: THE ROAR OF CATARACTS HURLED IN AIR AND THE HURRICANE LAYING HIS THUNDERS BARE AND RUSH OF BATTLING BEASTS WHOSE LAIR WAS THE ANTECHAMBER OF NAVIA GLOOM WERE MY OUTWORLD JOYS
phonemes: ðə ɹˈɔːɹ ʌv kˈæɾɐɹˌækts hˈɜːld ɪn ˈɛɹ, ænd ðə hˈɜːɹᵻkˌeɪn lˈeɪɪŋ hɪz θˈʌndɚz bˈɛɹ, ænd ɹˈʌʃ ʌv bˈæɾəlɪŋ bˈiːsts,  hˌuːz lˈɛɹ wʌzðɪ ˈæntɪtʃˌeɪmbɚɹ ʌv nˈædɪɹ ɡlˈuːm,   wɜː maɪ aʊtwˈɜːld dʒˈɔɪz.