text_original: Sweetly and more sweetly still Cradle in your arms my head, My fevered eyes and forehead wearied; You are to me the gracious morn Whose caress is in your hand: Behold, I am reborn, With no evil or dismay, Unto the daily work which marks my way,   A sign That makes me live in an heroic strife, A sword of beauty and of power divine Against invidious life.
text_transcription: SWEETLY AND MORE SWEETLY STILL CRADLE IN YOUR ARMS MY HEAD MY FEVERED EYES AND FOREHEAD WEARIED YOU ARE TO ME THE GRACIOUS MORN WHOSE CARESS IS IN YOUR HAND BEHOLD I AM REBORN WITH NO EVIL OR DISMAY UNTO THE DAILY WORK WHICH MARKS MY WAY A SIGN THAT MAKES ME LIVE IN AN HEROIC STRIFE A SWORD OF BEAUTY AND OF POWER DIVINE AGAINST INVIDIOUS LIFE
phonemes: swˈiːtli ænd mˈɔːɹ swˈiːtli stˈɪl kɹˈeɪdəl ɪn jʊɹ ˈɑːɹmz maɪ hˈɛd, maɪ fˈiːvɚd ˈaɪz ænd fˈɔːɹhɛd wˈɪɹid; juː ɑːɹ tə mˌiː ðə ɡɹˈeɪʃəs mˈɔːɹn hˌuːz kɚɹˈɛs ɪz ɪn jʊɹ hˈænd: bᵻhˈoʊld, aɪɐm ɹᵻbˈɔːɹn, wɪð nˈoʊ ˈiːvəl ɔːɹ dɪsmˈeɪ, ˌʌntʊ ðə dˈeɪli wˈɜːk wˌɪtʃ mˈɑːɹks maɪ wˈeɪ,   ɐ sˈaɪn ðæt mˌeɪks mˌiː lˈɪv ɪn æn hɪɹˈoʊɪk stɹˈaɪf, ɐ sˈɔːɹd ʌv bjˈuːɾi ænd ʌv pˈaʊɚ dᵻvˈaɪn ɐɡˈɛnst ɪnvˈɪdiəs lˈaɪf.