text_original: They play before me like motes in a sunbeam, enjoying the passing ray; whilst an English head, searching for more solid happiness, loses in the analysis of pleasure the yolatile sweets of the moment.
text_transcription: THEY PLAY BEFORE ME LIKE MOTES IN A SUNBEAM ENJOYING THE PASSING RAY WHILST AN ENGLISH HEAD SEARCHING FOR MORE SOLID HAPPINESS LOSES IN THE ANALYSIS OF PLEASURE THE VOLATILE SWEETS OF THE MOMENT
phonemes: ðeɪ plˈeɪ bᵻfˌɔːɹ mˌiː lˈaɪk mˈoʊts ɪn ɐ sˈʌnbiːm, ɛndʒˈɔɪɪŋ ðə pˈæsɪŋ ɹˈeɪ; wˌaɪlst ɐn ˈɪŋɡlɪʃ hˈɛd, sˈɜːtʃɪŋ fɔːɹ mˈɔːɹ sˈɑːlɪd hˈæpɪnəs, lˈuːzᵻz ɪnðɪ ɐnˈæləsˌɪs ʌv plˈɛʒɚ ðə jˈɑːlɐtˌaɪl swˈiːts ʌvðə mˈoʊmənt.