text_original: The forest that was all so grand When pipes and tabors had their sway Stood leafless now, a ghostly band Of skeletons in cold array. A lonely surge of ancient spray Told of an unforgetful sea, But iron blows had hushed for aye The broken flutes of Arcady.
text_transcription: THE FOREST THAT WAS ALL SO GRAND WHEN PIPES AND TABORS HAD THEIR SWAY STOOD LEAVELESS NOW A GHOSTLY BAND OF SKELETONS IN COLD ARRAY A LONELY SEARCH OF ANCIENT SPRAY TOLD OF AN UNFORGETFUL SEA BUT IRON BLOWS HAD HUSHED FOR RAY THE BROKEN FLUTES OF ARCADE
phonemes: ðə fˈɔːɹɪst ðæt wʌz ˈɔːl sˌoʊ ɡɹˈænd wɛn pˈaɪps ænd tˈæbɚz hæd ðɛɹ swˈeɪ stˈʊd lˈiːfləs nˈaʊ, ɐ ɡˈoʊstli bˈænd ʌv skˈɛlᵻtənz ɪn kˈoʊld ɚɹˈeɪ. ɐ lˈoʊnli sˈɜːdʒ ʌv ˈeɪntʃənt spɹˈeɪ tˈoʊld əvən ʌnfɚɡˈɛtfəl sˈiː, bˌʌt ˈaɪɚn blˈoʊz hæd hˈʌʃt fɔːɹ ˈaɪ ðə bɹˈoʊkən flˈuːts ʌv ˈɑːɹkædi.