text_original: There is a gate between us, locked and barred. Over which we may not climb ; and standing nigh Is the white angel Sorrow, who doth hold The only key that may unlock its ward ! II. Yet think not I would have it otherwise ! Our God, who knoweth women's hearts, knows best  And every little bird must build its nest From whence it soareth, singing, to the skies.
text_transcription: THERE IS A GATE BETWEEN US LOCKED AND BARRED OVER WHICH WE MAY NOT CLIMB AND STANDING NIGH IS THE WHITE ANGEL SORROW WHO DOTH HOLD THE ONLY KEY THAT MAY UNLOCK ITS WARD TWO YET THINK NOT I WOULD HAVE IT OTHERWISE OUR GOD WHO KNOWETH WOMEN'S HEARTS KNOWS BEST AND EVERY LITTLE BIRD MUST BUILD ITS NEST FROM WHENCE IT SOARETH SINGING TO THE SKIES
phonemes: ðɛɹ ɪz ɐ ɡˈeɪt bᵻtwˈiːn ˌʌs, lˈɑːkt ænd bˈɑːɹd. ˌoʊvɚ wˌɪtʃ wiː mˈeɪ nˌɑːt klˈaɪm ; ænd stˈændɪŋ nˈaɪ ɪz ðə wˈaɪt ˈeɪndʒəl sˈɑːɹoʊ, hˌuː dʌθ hˈoʊld ðɪ ˈoʊnli kˈiː ðæt mˈeɪ ʌnlˈɑːk ɪts wˈɔːɹd ! ɹˌoʊmən tˈuː. jˈɛt θˈɪŋk nˌɑːt aɪ wʊdhɐv ɪɾ ˈʌðɚwˌaɪz ! ˌaʊɚ ɡˈɑːd, hˌuː nˈoʊəθ wˈɪmɪnz hˈɑːɹts, nˈoʊz bˈɛst ænd ˈɛvɹi lˈɪɾəl bˈɜːd mˈʌst bˈɪld ɪts nˈɛst fɹʌm wˈɛns ɪt sˈɔːɹəθ, sˈɪŋɪŋ, tə ðə skˈaɪz.