text_original: Yet still in tender light the garden lies ; The warm, sweet winds are whispering soft and low ; Brown bees and butterflies flit to and fro ; The peace of heaven is in the o'erarching skies.
text_transcription: YET STILL IN TENDER LIGHT THE GARDEN LIES THE WARM SWEET WINDS ARE WHISPERING SOFT AND LOW BROWN BEES AND BUTTERFLIES FLIT TO AND FRO THE PEACE OF HEAVEN IS IN THE O'ERARCHING SKIES
phonemes: jˈɛt stˈɪl ɪn tˈɛndɚ lˈaɪt ðə ɡˈɑːɹdən lˈaɪz ; ðə wˈɔːɹm, swˈiːt wˈɪndz ɑːɹ wˈɪspɚɹɪŋ sˈɔft ænd lˈoʊ ; bɹˈaʊn bˈiːz ænd bˈʌɾɚflˌaɪz flˈɪt tˌuːəndfɹˈoʊ ; ðə pˈiːs ʌv hˈɛvən ɪz ɪnðɪ ˈɔːɹɑːɹkɪŋ skˈaɪz.