text_original: 250 THE OLD VILLAGE. And here and there an old dame stands Some farm house window nigh, Or, dark against the pasture lands, A ploughman old, with trembling hands, Checks his team suddenly, And turns a gray head to the road To watch the passer by.
text_transcription: AND HERE AND THERE AN OLD DAME STANDS SOME FARM HOUSE WINDOW NIGH OR DARK AGAINST THE PASTURE LANDS A PLOUGHMAN OLD WITH TREMBLING HANDS CHECKS HIS TEAM SUDDENLY AND TURNS A GREY HEAD TO THE ROAD TO WATCH THE PASSER BY
phonemes: tˈuːhˈʌndɹɪd fˈɪfti ðɪ ˈoʊld vˈɪlɪdʒ. ænd hˈɪɹ ɐnd ðˈɛɹ ɐn ˈoʊld dˈeɪm stˈændz sˌʌm fˈɑːɹm hˈaʊs wˈɪndoʊ nˈaɪ, ɔːɹ, dˈɑːɹk ɐɡˈɛnst ðə pˈæstʃɚ lˈændz, ɐ plˈaʊmən ˈoʊld, wɪð tɹˈɛmblɪŋ hˈændz, tʃˈɛks hɪz tˈiːm sˈʌdənli, ænd tˈɜːnz ɐ ɡɹˈeɪ hˈɛd tə ðə ɹˈoʊd tə wˈɑːtʃ ðə pˈæsɚ bˈaɪ.