text_original: Then on our vision dawns afar The goal of glory, gleaming Like some great radiant solar star, And sets us longing, dreaming. Forgetting all things left behind, We strain each nerve to win it, But when 'tis ours—alas! we find There's nothing in it.
text_transcription: THEN ON OUR VISION DAWNS AFAR THE GOAL OF GLORY GLEAMING LIKE SOME GREAT RADIANT SOLAR STAR AND SETS US LONGING DREAMING FORGETTING ALL THINGS LEFT BEHIND WE STRAIN EACH NERVE TO WIN IT BUT WHEN TIS OURS ALAS WE FIND THERE IS NOTHING IN IT
phonemes: ðˈɛn ˌɔn ˌaʊɚ vˈɪʒən dˈɔːnz ɐfˈɑːɹ ðə ɡˈoʊl ʌv ɡlˈɔːɹi, ɡlˈiːmɪŋ lˈaɪk sˌʌm ɡɹˈeɪt ɹˈeɪdiənt sˈoʊlɚ stˈɑːɹ, ænd sˈɛts ˌʌs lˈɔŋɪŋ, dɹˈiːmɪŋ. fɚɡˈɛɾɪŋ ˈɔːl θˈɪŋz lˈɛft bᵻhˈaɪnd, wiː stɹˈeɪn ˈiːtʃ nˈɜːv tə wˈɪn ɪt, bˌʌt wɛn tˈɪz aʊɚz—ɐlˈæs! wiː fˈaɪnd ðɛɹz nˈʌθɪŋ ɪn ɪt.