text_original: IN A GOTHIC CHURCH From the 'Poesie' They rise aloft, marching in awful file, The polished shafts immense of marble gray, And in the sacred darkness seem to be An army of giants Who wage a war with the invisible; The silent arches soar and spring apart In distant flight, then re embrace again And droop on high.
text_transcription: IN A GOTHIC CHURCH FROM THE POISIER THEY RISE ALOFT MARCHING IN AWFUL FILE THE POLISHED SHAFTS IMMENSE OF MARBLE GREY AND IN THE SACRED DARKNESS SEEM TO BE AN ARMY OF GIANTS WHO WAGER WAR WITH THE INVISIBLE THE SILENT ARCHES SOAR AND SPRING APART IN DISTANT FLIGHT THEN RE EMBRACE AGAIN AND DROOP ON HIGH
phonemes: ɪn ɐ ɡˈɑːθɪk tʃˈɜːtʃ fɹʌmðə pˈoʊsi ðeɪ ɹˈaɪz ɐlˈɔft, mˈɑːɹtʃɪŋ ɪn ˈɔːfəl fˈaɪl, ðə pˈɑːlɪʃt ʃˈæfts ɪmˈɛns ʌv mˈɑːɹbəl ɡɹˈeɪ, ænd ɪnðə sˈeɪkɹɪd dˈɑːɹknəs sˈiːm təbi ɐn ˈɑːɹmi ʌv dʒˈaɪənts hˌuː wˈeɪdʒ ɐ wˈɔːɹ wɪððɪ ɪnvˈɪzᵻbəl; ðə sˈaɪlənt ˈɑːɹtʃᵻz sˈɔːɹ ænd spɹˈɪŋ ɐpˈɑːɹt ɪn dˈɪstənt flˈaɪt, ðˈɛn ɹˌiː ɛmbɹˈeɪs ɐɡˈɛn ænd dɹˈuːp ˌɔn hˈaɪ.