text_original: The girdling hills with the night mist cold In purple raiment are hooded and stoled And smit on the brows with fire and gold ; And in the distance the wide, white sea Is a thing of glamor and wizardry, With its wild heart lulled to a passing rest. And the sunrise cradled upon its breast.
text_transcription: THE GIRDLING HILLS WITH THE NIGHT MIST COLD IN PURPLE RAIMENT ARE HOODED AND STOLLED AND SMIT ON THE BROWS WITH FIRE AND GOLD AND IN THE DISTANCE THE WIDE WHITE SEA IS A THING OF GLAMOUR AND WIZARDRY WITH ITS WILD HEART LULLED TO A PASSING REST AND THE SUNRISE CRADLED UPON ITS BREAST
phonemes: ðə ɡˈɜːdlɪŋ hˈɪlz wɪððə nˈaɪt mˈɪst kˈoʊld ɪn pˈɜːpəl ɹˈeɪmənt ɑːɹ hˈʊdᵻd ænd stˈoʊld ænd smˈɪt ɔnðə bɹˈaʊz wɪð fˈaɪɚ ænd ɡˈoʊld ; ænd ɪnðə dˈɪstəns ðə wˈaɪd, wˈaɪt sˈiː ɪz ɐ θˈɪŋ ʌv ɡlˈæmɚ ænd wˈɪzɚdɹi, wɪð ɪts wˈaɪld hˈɑːɹt lˈʌld tʊ ɐ pˈæsɪŋ ɹˈɛst. ænd ðə sˈʌnɹaɪz kɹˈeɪdəld əpˌɑːn ɪts bɹˈɛst.