text_original: O'er the Isle of the Pheasant The morning sun shone, On the plane trees which shaded The shores of St. John. "Now, why from yon battlements Speaks not my love! Why waves there no banner My fortress above?"
text_transcription: O'ER THE ISLE OF THE PHEASANT THE MORNING SUN SHONE ON THE PLANE TREES WHICH SHADED THE SHORES OF SAINT JOHN NOW WHY FROM ME ON BATTLEMENT SPEAKS NOT MY LOVE WHY WAS THERE NO BENNER MY FORTRESS ABOVE
phonemes: ˈɔːɹ ðɪ ˈaɪəl ʌvðə fˈɛzənt ðə mˈɔːɹnɪŋ sˈʌn ʃˈɑːn, ɔnðə plˈeɪn tɹˈiːz wˌɪtʃ ʃˈeɪdᵻd ðə ʃˈɔːɹz ʌv sənt. dʒˈɑːn. "nˈaʊ, wˌaɪ fɹʌm jˈɑːn bˈæɾəlmənts spˈiːks nˌɑːt maɪ lˈʌv! wˌaɪ wˈeɪvz ðɛɹ nˈoʊ bˈænɚ maɪ fˈɔːɹtɹəs əbˈʌv?"