text_original: "I love to picture him, Clear eyed and strong of limb, Gazing his last upon the rocky shore His feet should press no more; Seeing the tall church steeples fade away In distance soft and gray; So dropping down below the horizon's rim Where fame awaited him.
text_transcription: I LOVE TO PICTURE HIM CLEAR EYED AND STRONG OF LIMB GAZING HIS LAST UPON THE ROCKY SHORE HIS FEET SHOULD PRESS NO MORE SEEING THE TALL CHURCH STEEPLES FADE AWAY IN DISTANCE SOFT AND GREY SO DROPPING DOWN BELOW THE HORIZON'S RIM WHERE FAME AWAITED HIM
phonemes: "aɪ lˈʌv tə pˈɪktʃɚ hˌɪm, klˈɪɹ ˈaɪd ænd stɹˈɔŋ ʌv lˈɪm, ɡˈeɪzɪŋ hɪz lˈæst əpˌɑːn ðə ɹˈɑːki ʃˈɔːɹ hɪz fˈiːt ʃˌʊd pɹˈɛs nˈoʊmˌɔːɹ; sˈiːɪŋ ðə tˈɔːl tʃˈɜːtʃ stˈiːpəlz fˈeɪd ɐwˈeɪ ɪn dˈɪstəns sˈɔft ænd ɡɹˈeɪ; sˌoʊ dɹˈɑːpɪŋ dˌaʊn bᵻlˌoʊ ðə hɚɹˈaɪzənz ɹˈɪm wˌɛɹ fˈeɪm ɐwˈeɪɾᵻd hˌɪm.