text_original: Silver of mist and gossamers, Through shine of noonday's glassy gold, Pale blue of skies, where nothing stirs Save one blanched leaf, weary and old, That over and over slowly falls From the mute elm trees, hanging on air Like tattered flags along the walls Of chapels deep in sunlit prayer. Once more
text_transcription: SILVER OF MIST AND GOSSAMERS THROUGH SHINE OF NOONDAY'S GLASSY GOLD PALE BLUE OF SKIES WHERE NOTHING STIRS SAVE ONE BLANCHED LEAF WEARY AND OLD THAT OVER AND OVER SLOWLY FALLS FROM THE MUTE ELM TREES HANGING ON AIR LIKE TATTERED FLAGS ALONG THE WALLS OF CHAPELS DEEP IN SUNLIT PRAYER ONCE MORE
phonemes: sˈɪlvɚɹ ʌv mˈɪst ænd ɡˈɑːsəmɚz, θɹuː ʃˈaɪn ʌv nˈuːndeɪz ɡlˈæsi ɡˈoʊld, pˈeɪl blˈuː ʌv skˈaɪz, wˌɛɹ nˈʌθɪŋ stˈɜːz sˈeɪv wˈʌn blˈæntʃt lˈiːf, wˈɪɹi ænd ˈoʊld, ðæt ˌoʊvɚ ænd ˌoʊvɚ slˈoʊli fˈɔːlz fɹʌmðə mjˈuːt ˈɛlm tɹˈiːz, hˈæŋɪŋ ˌɔn ˈɛɹ lˈaɪk tˈæɾɚd flˈæɡz ɐlˈɔŋ ðə wˈɔːlz ʌv tʃˈæpəlz dˈiːp ɪn sˈʌnlɪt pɹˈɛɹ. wˈʌns mˈɔːɹ