text_original: A GREAT WHITE WAVE. '* A GRACE, a grace, to night I crave, — My heart it bodes me ill ; For oh ! I dreamt of a great white wave. And it grew greater still." " There 's never a need for thy poor heart's moan,  Let be, sweet wife, let be ; For a hundred times has the wild wind blown. And blown no hurt to me." He touched her cheek with his touch so light.
text_transcription: A GREAT WHITE WAVE A GRACE A GRACE TO NIGHT I CRAVE MY HEART IT BODES ME ILL FOR OH I DREAMT OF A GREAT WHITE WAVE AND IT GREW GREATER STILL THERE'S NEVER A NEED FOR THY POOR HEART'S MOAN LET BE SWEET WIFE LET BE FOR A HUNDRED TIMES HAS THE WILD WIND BLOWN AND BLOWN NO HURT TO ME HE TOUCHED HER CHEEK WITH HIS TOUCH SO LIGHT
phonemes: ɐ ɡɹˈeɪt wˈaɪt wˈeɪv. ˈæstɚɹˌɪsk ɐ ɡɹˈeɪs, ɐ ɡɹˈeɪs, tə nˈaɪt aɪ kɹˈeɪv, — maɪ hˈɑːɹt ɪt bˈoʊdz mˌiː ˈɪl ; fɔːɹ ˈoʊ ! aɪ dɹˈɛmpt əvə ɡɹˈeɪt wˈaɪt wˈeɪv. ænd ɪt ɡɹˈuː ɡɹˈeɪɾɚ stˈɪl." " ðɛɹ ˈɛs nˈɛvɚɹ ɐ nˈiːd fɔːɹ ðˌaɪ pˈʊɹ hˈɑːɹts mˈoʊn,  lˈɛt bˈiː, swˈiːt wˈaɪf, lˈɛt bˈiː ; fɚɹə hˈʌndɹɪd tˈaɪmz hɐz ðə wˈaɪld wˈɪnd blˈoʊn. ænd blˈoʊn nˈoʊ hˈɜːt tə mˌiː." hiː tˈʌtʃt hɜː tʃˈiːk wɪð hɪz tˈʌtʃ sˌoʊ lˈaɪt.