text_original: I listen to the far off bell, I murmur o'er the little songs Which thou didst love so well, Pleasant memories come in throngs And mine eyes are blurred with tears, But no glimpse of thee appears: Lonely am I in the Winter, lonely in the Spring, Summer and Harvest bring no trace of thee   Oh!
text_transcription: I LISTEN TO THE FAR OFF BELL I MURMUR O'ER THE LITTLE SONGS WHICH THOU DIDST LOVE SO WELL PLEASANT MEMORIES COME IN THRONGS AND MINE EYES ARE BLURRED WITH TEARS BUT NO GLIMPSE OF THEE APPEARS LONELY AM I IN THE WINTER LONELY IN THE SPRING SUMMER AND HARVEST BRING NO TRACE OF THEE OH
phonemes: aɪ lˈɪsən tə ðə fˈɑːɹ ˈɔf bˈɛl, aɪ mˈɜːmɚɹ ˈɔːɹ ðə lˈɪɾəl sˈɔŋz wˌɪtʃ ðˈaʊ dˈɪdst lˈʌv sˌoʊ wˈɛl, plˈɛzənt mˈɛmɚɹiz kˈʌm ɪn θɹˈɔŋz ænd mˈaɪn ˈaɪz ɑːɹ blˈɜːd wɪð tˈɪɹz, bˌʌt nˈoʊ ɡlˈɪmps ʌv ðiː ɐpˈɪɹz: lˈoʊnli ɐm aɪ ɪnðə wˈɪntɚ, lˈoʊnli ɪnðə spɹˈɪŋ, sˈʌmɚɹ ænd hˈɑːɹvɪst bɹˈɪŋ nˈoʊ tɹˈeɪs ʌv ðiː ˈoʊ!