text_original: 17 BEFORE STORM There's a grayness over the harbor Hke fear on the face of a woman, The sob of the waves has a sound akin to a woman's cry, And the deeps beyond the bar are moaning with evil presage Of a storm that will leap from its lair in that dour north eastern sky.
text_transcription: BEFORE THE STORM THERE'S A GREYNESS OVER THE HARBOUR LIKE FEAR ON THE FACE OF A WOMAN THE SOB OF THE WAVES HAS A SOUND AKIN TO A WOMAN'S CRY AND THE DEEPS BEYOND THE BAR ARE MOANING WITH EVIL PRESAGE OF A STORM THAT WILL LEAP FROM ITS LAIR IN THAT DOUR NORTH EASTERN SKYY
phonemes: sˈɛvəntˌiːn bᵻfˌɔːɹ stˈɔːɹm ðɛɹz ɐ ɡɹˈeɪnəs ˌoʊvɚ ðə hˈɑːɹbɚɹ ˌeɪtʃkˌeɪˈiː fˈɪɹ ɔnðə fˈeɪs əvə wˈʊmən, ðə sˈɑːb ʌvðə wˈeɪvz hɐz ɐ sˈaʊnd ɐkˈɪn tʊ ɐ wˈʊmənz kɹˈaɪ, ænd ðə dˈiːps bᵻjˌɔnd ðə bˈɑːɹ ɑːɹ mˈoʊnɪŋ wɪð ˈiːvəl pɹˈɛsɪdʒ əvə stˈɔːɹm ðæt wɪl lˈiːp fɹʌm ɪts lˈɛɹ ɪn ðæt dˈaʊɚ nˈɔːɹθ ˈiːstɚn skˈaɪ.