text_original: Intensity of life, its goodness and its power, Like to a mighty blessedness Of your soul are part, So that to contain the anguish and the stress, Suddenly your hands have clasped my own, Laying them, as though with fear, Against your heart.
text_transcription: INTENSITY OF LIFE ITS GOODNESS AND ITS POWER LIKE TO A MIGHTY BLESSEDNESS OF YOUR SOUL APART SO THAT TO CONTAIN THE ANGUISH AND DISTRESS SUDDENLY YOUR HANDS HAVE CLASPED MY OWN LAYING THEM AS THOUGH WITH FEAR AGAINST YOUR HEART
phonemes: ɪntˈɛnsᵻɾi ʌv lˈaɪf, ɪts ɡˈʊdnəs ænd ɪts pˈaʊɚ, lˈaɪk tʊ ɐ mˈaɪɾi blˈɛstnəs ʌv jʊɹ sˈoʊl ɑːɹ pˈɑːɹt, sˌoʊ ðæt tə kəntˈeɪn ðɪ ˈæŋɡwɪʃ ænd ðə stɹˈɛs, sˈʌdənli jʊɹ hˈændz hæv klˈæspt maɪ ˈoʊn, lˈeɪɪŋ ðˌɛm, æz ðˌoʊ wɪð fˈɪɹ, ɐɡˈɛnst jʊɹ hˈɑːɹt.