text_original: So he sailed; but saddest 'tis alway Not for those who go, but for those who stay; And her sweet eyes gathered a shadow dim As days went by with no news of him, And weeks and months, but at last it came, As the gray moor shone with the sunset flame Her quick eyes glanced the strange lines o'er, Then she fell like dead on the cottage floor.
text_transcription: SO HE SAILED BUT SADDEST TIS ALL WAY NOT FOR THOSE WHO GO BUT FOR THOSE WHO STAY AND HER SWEET EYES GATHERED A SHADOW DIM AS DAYS WENT BY WITH NO NEWS OF HIM AND WEEKS AND MONTHS BUT AT LAST IT CAME AS THE GREY MOOR SHONE WITH THE SUNSET FLAME HER QUICK EYES GLANCED THE STRANGE LINES O'ER THEN SHE FELL LIKE DEAD ON THE COTTAGE FLOOR
phonemes: sˌoʊ hiː sˈeɪld; bˌʌt sˈædɪst tˈɪz ˈɔlweɪ nˌɑːt fɔːɹ ðoʊz hˌuː ɡˈoʊ, bˌʌt fɔːɹ ðoʊz hˌuː stˈeɪ; ænd hɜː swˈiːt ˈaɪz ɡˈæðɚd ɐ ʃˈædoʊ dˈɪm æz dˈeɪz wɛnt baɪ wɪð nˈoʊ nˈuːz ʌv hˌɪm, ænd wˈiːks ænd mˈʌnθs, bˌʌt æt lˈæst ɪt kˈeɪm, æz ðə ɡɹˈeɪ mˈʊɹ ʃˈɑːn wɪððə sˈʌnsɛt flˈeɪm hɜː kwˈɪk ˈaɪz ɡlˈænst ðə stɹˈeɪndʒ lˈaɪnz ˈɔːɹ, ðˈɛn ʃiː fˈɛl lˈaɪk dˈɛd ɔnðə kˈɑːɾɪdʒ flˈɔːɹ.