text_original: ENDYMION (FOR MUSIC) THE apple trees are hung with gold, And birds are loud in Arcady, The sheep lie bleating in the fold, The wild goat runs across the wold, But yesterday his love he told, I know he will come back to me.
text_transcription: ANDYMION FOR MUSIC THE APPLE TREES ARE HUNG WITH GOLD AND BIRDS ARE LOUD IN ARCADEE THE SHEEP LIE BLEATING IN THE FOLD THE WILD GOAT RUNS ACROSS THE WORLD BUT YESTERDAY HIS LOVE HE TOLD I KNOW HE WILL COME BACK TO ME
phonemes: ɛndˈɪmiən (fɔːɹ mjˈuːzɪk) ðɪ ˈæpəl tɹˈiːz ɑːɹ hˈʌŋ wɪð ɡˈoʊld, ænd bˈɜːdz ɑːɹ lˈaʊd ɪn ˈɑːɹkædi, ðə ʃˈiːp lˈaɪ blˈiːɾɪŋ ɪnðə fˈoʊld, ðə wˈaɪld ɡˈoʊt ɹˈʌnz əkɹˌɑːs ðə wˈoʊld, bˌʌt jˈɛstɚdˌeɪ hɪz lˈʌv hiː tˈoʊld, aɪ nˈoʊ hiː wɪl kˈʌm bˈæk tə mˌiː.