text_original: He turns away, with dread and fear, But the fell spectres still are near. Though Falsehood's mazes see him wind! Yet Infamy is close behind, Lifting her horn, with horrors fraught, Whose hideous yell is frenzy to the thought.
text_transcription: HE TURNS AWAY WITH DREAD AND FEAR BUT THE FELL SPECTRES STILL ARE NEAR THOUGH FALSEHOOD'S MAZES SEE HIM WIND YET INFAMY IS CLOSE BEHIND LIFTING HER HORN WITH HORROR'S FRAUD WHOSE HIDEOUS YELL IS FRENZY TO THE THOUGHT
phonemes: hiː tˈɜːnz ɐwˈeɪ, wɪð dɹˈɛd ænd fˈɪɹ, bˌʌt ðə fˈɛl spˈɛktɚz stˈɪl ɑːɹ nˈɪɹ. ðˌoʊ fˈɔlshʊdz mˈeɪzᵻz sˈiː hˌɪm wˈɪnd! jˈɛt ˈɪnfəmi ɪz klˈoʊs bᵻhˈaɪnd, lˈɪftɪŋ hɜː hˈɔːɹn, wɪð hˈɔɹɚz fɹˈɔːt, hˌuːz hˈɪdiəs jˈɛl ɪz fɹˈɛnzi tə ðə θˈɔːt.