text_original: how swift recede Time's shadows! and how glows again Through its dead mass the incandescent verse, As when upon the anvils of the brain 298 POEMU OF ITO ME. It glittering lay, cydopically wrought By the fast throbbing haininers of the poet's thought
text_transcription: HOW SWIFT RECEDE TIME'S SHADOWS AND HOW GLOWS AGAIN THROUGH ITS DEAD MASS THECANDESCENT VERSE AS WHEN UPON THE ANVILS OF THE BRAIN IT GLITTERING LAY CYCLOPICALLY WROUGHT BY THE FAST THROBBING HAMMERS OF THE POET'S THOUGHT
phonemes: hˌaʊ swˈɪft ɹᵻsˈiːd tˈaɪmz ʃˈædoʊz! ænd hˌaʊ ɡlˈoʊz ɐɡˈɛn θɹuː ɪts dˈɛd mˈæs ðɪ ˌɪŋkɐndˈɛsənt vˈɜːs, æz wɛn əpˌɑːn ðɪ ˈænvəlz ʌvðə bɹˈeɪn tˈuːhˈʌndɹɪd nˈaɪnti ˈeɪt pˈoʊmuː ʌv ˌaɪtˌiːˈoʊ mˌiː. ɪt ɡlˈɪɾɚɹɪŋ lˈeɪ, saɪdˈɑːpɪkli ɹˈɔːt baɪ ðə fˈæst θɹˈɑːbɪŋ hˈeɪnɪnɚz ʌvðə pˈoʊɪts θˈɔːt