text_original: 45 TO AN OLD NURSE Ever the thrush, on days like these of June, Sings to the dead, as leafy shadows veer, Swung by the slow decline of afternoon : The dead folk do not hear.
text_transcription: TO AN OLD NURSE EVER THE THRUSH ON DAYS LIKE THESE OF JUNE SINGS TO THE DEAD AS LEAFY SHADOWS VEER SWUNG BY THE SLOW DECLINE OF AFTERNOON THE DEAD FOLK DO NOT HEAR
phonemes: fˈɔːɹɾi fˈaɪv tuː ɐn ˈoʊld nˈɜːs ˈɛvɚ ðə θɹˈʌʃ, ˌɔn dˈeɪz lˈaɪk ðiːz ʌv dʒˈuːn, sˈɪŋz tə ðə dˈɛd, æz lˈiːfi ʃˈædoʊz vˈɪɹ, swˈʌŋ baɪ ðə slˈoʊ dᵻklˈaɪn ʌv ˌæftɚnˈuːn : ðə dˈɛd fˈoʊk duːnˌɑːt hˈɪɹ.