text_original: Oppress'd with light, he seeks to shun The splendid glories of the sun; The busy crowds that hover near, Torment his eye, distract his ear; He hastens to the secret shades, Where not a ray the gloom pervades; Where Contemplation may retreat, And Silence take his mossy seat; Yet even there no peace he knows, His fev'rish blood, no calmer flows; Some hid assassins 'vengeful knife, Is rais'd to end his wretched life.
text_transcription: OPPRESSED WITH LIGHT HE SEEKS TO SHUN THE SPLENDID GLORIES OF THE SUN THE BUSY CROWDS THAT HOVER NEAR TORMENT HIS EYE DISTRACT HIS EAR HE HASTENS TO THE SECRET SHADES WHERE NOT A RAYED GLOOM PERVADES WHERE CONTEMPLATION MAY RETREAT AND SILENCE TAKE ITS MOSSY SEAT YET EVEN THERE NO PEACE HE KNOWS HIS FEVERISH BLOOD NO CALMER FLOWS SOME HID ASSASSIN'S VENGEFUL KNIFE IS RAISED TO END HIS WRETCHED LIFE
phonemes: əpɹˈɛsd wɪð lˈaɪt, hiː sˈiːks tə ʃˈʌn ðə splˈɛndɪd ɡlˈɔːɹiz ʌvðə sˈʌn; ðə bˈɪzi kɹˈaʊdz ðæt hˈʌvɚ nˈɪɹ, tˈɔːɹmɛnt hɪz ˈaɪ, dɪstɹˈækt hɪz ˈɪɹ; hiː hˈeɪsənz tə ðə sˈiːkɹᵻt ʃˈeɪdz, wˌɛɹ nˌɑːɾɚ ɹˈeɪ ðə ɡlˈuːm pɚvˈeɪdz; wˌɛɹ kˌɑːntəmplˈeɪʃən mˈeɪ ɹᵻtɹˈiːt, ænd sˈaɪləns tˈeɪk hɪz mˈɔsi sˈiːt; jˈɛt ˈiːvən ðɛɹ nˈoʊ pˈiːs hiː nˈoʊz, hɪz fˈɛvɹɪʃ blˈʌd, nˈoʊ kˈɑːmɚ flˈoʊz; sˌʌm hˈɪd ɐsˈæsɪnz vˈɛndʒfəl nˈaɪf, ɪz ɹˈeɪzd tʊ ˈɛnd hɪz ɹˈɛtʃᵻd lˈaɪf.