text_original: That call will be when I, myself, Have passed through the Gates of Gold; He will come with a rush, and his soft brown eyes Will glisten with love as of old. Oh, Warder of Gates, in the far away land, This little black dog should you see, Throw wide your doors that this faithful friend May enter, and wait for me.
text_transcription: THAT CALL WILL BE WHEN I MYSELF HAVE PASSED THROUGH THE GATES OF GOLD HE WILL COME WITH A RUSH AND HIS SOFT BROWN EYES WILL GLISTEN WITH LOVE AS OF OLD O WARDER OF GATES IN THE FAR AWAY LAND THIS LITTLE BLACK DOG SHOULD YOU SEE THROW WIDE YOUR DOORS THAT THIS FAITHFUL FRIEND MAY ENTER AND WAIT FOR ME
phonemes: ðæt kˈɔːl wɪl biː wɛn ˈaɪ, maɪsˈɛlf, hæv pˈæst θɹuː ðə ɡˈeɪts ʌv ɡˈoʊld; hiː wɪl kˈʌm wɪð ɐ ɹˈʌʃ, ænd hɪz sˈɔft bɹˈaʊn ˈaɪz wɪl ɡlˈɪsən wɪð lˈʌv æz ʌv ˈoʊld. ˈoʊ, wˈɔːɹdɚɹ ʌv ɡˈeɪts, ɪnðə fˈɑːɹ ɐwˈeɪ lˈænd, ðɪs lˈɪɾəl blˈæk dˈɑːɡ ʃˌʊd juː sˈiː, θɹˈoʊ wˈaɪd jʊɹ dˈɔːɹz ðæt ðɪs fˈeɪθfəl fɹˈɛnd mˈeɪ ˈɛntɚ, ænd wˈeɪt fɔːɹ mˌiː.