text_original: II WHAT LUCK  What luck shall be thine, small boat, to find. As thou sailest into the night ? Will the winds of the shore come tripping behind, To hasten thy merry flight ; Will the stars be kind, and the laughing waves Just dimple the moonlit sea ; Or thy foes leap out from the great cloud caves, To challenge a dance with thee
text_transcription: WHAT LUCK WHAT LUCK SHALL BE THINE SMALL BOAT TO FIND AS THOU SAIL'ST INTO THE NIGHT WILL THE WINDS OF THE SHORE COME TRIPPING BEHIND TO HASTEN THY MERRY FLIGHT WILL THE STARS BE KIND AND THE LAUGHING WAVES JUST DIMPLE THE MOONLIT SEA OR THY FOES LEAP OUT FROM THE GREAT CLOUD CAVES TO CHALLENGE A DANCE WITH THEE
phonemes: ɹˌoʊmən tˈuː wʌt lˈʌk wʌt lˈʌk ʃˌæl biː ðˈaɪn, smˈɔːl bˈoʊt, tə fˈaɪnd. æz ðˈaʊ sˈeɪlɪst ˌɪntʊ ðə nˈaɪt ? wɪl ðə wˈɪndz ʌvðə ʃˈɔːɹ kˈʌm tɹˈɪpɪŋ bᵻhˈaɪnd, tə hˈeɪsən ðˌaɪ mˈɛɹi flˈaɪt ; wɪl ðə stˈɑːɹz biː kˈaɪnd, ænd ðə lˈæfɪŋ wˈeɪvz dʒˈʌst dˈɪmpəl ðə mˈuːnlɪt sˈiː ; ɔːɹ ðˌaɪ fˈoʊz lˈiːp ˈaʊt fɹʌmðə ɡɹˈeɪt klˈaʊd kˈeɪvz, tə tʃˈælɪndʒ ɐ dˈæns wɪð ðˈiː