text_original: 135 THE GOLDEN STORES THAT WANE. The blue dips down on every side, We walk together, I and you, And mean to pierce, whatever betide. Deeper and deeper in the blue. Such joyous strength, such hours unspent. Oh ! can it be, old friend, These golden stores of life are meant To wane and touch their end
text_transcription: THE GOLDEN STORES THAT WANE THE BLUE DIPS DOWN ON EVERY SIDE WE WALK TOGETHER I AND YOU AND MEAN TO PIERCE WHATE'ER BETIDE DEEPER AND DEEPER IN THE BLUE SUCH JOYOUS STRENGTH SUCH HOURS UNSPENT OH CAN IT BE OLD FRIEND THESE GOLDEN STORES OF LIFE ARE MEANT TO WANE AND TOUCH THEIR END
phonemes: wˈʌnhˈʌndɹɪd θˈɜːɾi fˈaɪv ðə ɡˈoʊldən stˈɔːɹz ðæt wˈeɪn. ðə blˈuː dˈɪps dˌaʊn ˌɔn ˈɛvɹi sˈaɪd, wiː wˈɔːk təɡˈɛðɚ, aɪ ænd juː, ænd mˈiːn tə pˈɪɹs, wʌtˈɛvɚ bᵻtˈaɪd. dˈiːpɚɹ ænd dˈiːpɚɹ ɪnðə blˈuː. sˈʌtʃ dʒˈɔɪəs stɹˈɛŋθ, sˈʌtʃ ˈaʊɚz ʌnspˈɛnt. ˈoʊ ! kæn ɪt bˈiː, ˈoʊld fɹˈɛnd, ðiːz ɡˈoʊldən stˈɔːɹz ʌv lˈaɪf ɑːɹ mˈɛnt tə wˈeɪn ænd tˈʌtʃ ðɛɹ ˈɛnd