text_original: Thy song, the symbol of a tear, Echoes the cry "Too late!" 34 AN AUTUMN THRUSH Too late!" cries back the conscious heart, As one that in dismay Had seen the affronted gods depart And could not bid them stay; Nor could retain from Time s control A moment or a flow r, Save when in woodlands of the soul Such strains endure an hour.
text_transcription: THY SONG THE SYMBOL OF A TEAR ECHOES THE CRY TOO LATE TOO LATE CRIES BACK THE CONSCIOUS HEART AS ONE THAT IN DISMAY HAD SEEN THE AFFRONTED GODS DEPART AND COULD NOT BID THEM STAY NOR COULD RETAIN FROM TIME'S CONTROL A MOMENT OR FLOWER SAVE WHEN IN WOODLANDS OF THE SOUL SUCH STRAINS ENDURE AN HOUR
phonemes: ðˌaɪ sˈɔŋ, ðə sˈɪmbəl əvə tˈɪɹ, ˈɛkoʊz ðə kɹˈaɪ "tˈuː lˈeɪt!" θˈɜːɾi fˈɔːɹ ɐn ˈɔːɾʌm θɹˈʌʃ tˈuː lˈeɪt!" kɹˈaɪz bˈæk ðə kˈɑːnʃəs hˈɑːɹt, æz wˈʌn ðæt ɪn dɪsmˈeɪ hæd sˈiːn ðɪ ɐfɹˈʌntᵻd ɡˈɑːdz dᵻpˈɑːɹt ænd kʊd nˌɑːt bˈɪd ðˌɛm stˈeɪ; nˈɔːɹ kʊd ɹᵻtˈeɪn fɹʌm tˈaɪm ˈɛs kəntɹˈoʊl ɐ mˈoʊmənt ɔːɹ ɐ flˈoʊ ˈɑːɹ, sˈeɪv wɛn ɪn wˈʊdləndz ʌvðə sˈoʊl sˈʌtʃ stɹˈeɪnz ɛndˈʊɹ ɐn ˈaʊɚ.