text_original: Many leaves too soon must wither, Many flowers too soon must die, Many bright ones wandering hither, We know not whence, we know not why, Like the leaves and like the flowers, Vanish, ere the summer hours, That brought them to us, have gone by.
text_transcription: MANY LEAVES TOO SOON MUST WITHER MANY FLOWERS TOO SOON MUST DIE MANY BRIGHT ONES WANDERING HITHER WE KNOW NOT WHENCE WE KNOW NOT WHY LIKE THE LEAVES AND LIKE THE FLOWERS VANISH ERE THE SUMMER HOURS THAT BROUGHT THEM TO US HAVE GONE BY
phonemes: mˈɛni lˈiːvz tˈuː sˈuːn mˈʌst wˈɪðɚ, mˈɛni flˈaʊɚz tˈuː sˈuːn mˈʌst dˈaɪ, mˈɛni bɹˈaɪt wˈʌnz wˈɔndɚɹɪŋ hˈɪðɚ, wiː nˈoʊ nˌɑːt wˈɛns, wiː nˈoʊ nˌɑːt wˈaɪ, lˈaɪk ðə lˈiːvz ænd lˈaɪk ðə flˈaʊɚz, vˈænɪʃ, ˈɛɹ ðə sˈʌmɚɹ ˈaʊɚz, ðæt bɹˈɔːt ðˌɛm tʊ ˌʌs, hæv ɡɔn bˈaɪ.