text_original: MY FEET ARE DRAWN. " Oh ! Mother, Mother, soon your child No more your child will be, For dusk and dawn my feet are drawn Towards the fairy lea. ^' With outstretched hand and flattering word The path is all beset ; My heart is like a poor lost bird, That flutters in the net.'
text_transcription: MY FEET ARE DRAWN O MOTHER MOTHER SOON YOUR CHILD NO MORE YOUR CHILD WILL BE FOR DUSK AND DAWN MY FEET ARE DRAWN TOWARDS THE FAIRY LEE WITH OUTSTRETCHED HAND AND FLATTERING WORD THE PATH IS ALL BESET MY HEART IS LIKE A POOR LOST BIRD THAT FLUTTERS IN THE NET
phonemes: maɪ fˈiːt ɑːɹ dɹˈɔːn. " ˈoʊ ! mˈʌðɚ, mˈʌðɚ, sˈuːn jʊɹ tʃˈaɪld nˈoʊmˌɔːɹ jʊɹ tʃˈaɪld wɪl bˈiː, fɔːɹ dˈʌsk ænd dˈɔːn maɪ fˈiːt ɑːɹ dɹˈɔːn təwˈɔːɹdz ðə fˈɛɹi lˈiː. wɪð aʊtstɹˈɛtʃt hˈænd ænd flˈæɾɚɹɪŋ wˈɜːd ðə pˈæθ ɪz ˈɔːl bᵻsˈɛt ; maɪ hˈɑːɹt ɪz lˈaɪk ɐ pˈʊɹ lˈɔst bˈɜːd, ðæt flˈʌɾɚz ɪnðə nˈɛt.