text_original: In the dreamy vale of beeches Fair and faint is woven mist, And the river's orient reaches Are the palest amethyst. Every limpid brook is singing Of the lure of April days; Every piney glen is ringing With the maddest roundelays.
text_transcription: IN THE DREAMY VALE OF BEECHES FAIR AND FAINT IS WOVEN MIST AND THE RIVER'S ORIENT REACHES ARE THE PALEST AMETHYST EVERY LIMPID BROOK IS SINGING OF THE LURE OF APRIL DAYS EVERY PINY GLEN IS RINGING WITH THE MADDEST RUNDOLAS
phonemes: ɪnðə dɹˈiːmi vˈeɪl ʌv bˈiːtʃᵻz fˈɛɹ ænd fˈeɪnt ɪz wˈoʊvən mˈɪst, ænd ðə ɹˈɪvɚz ˈɔːɹiənt ɹˈiːtʃᵻz ɑːɹ ðə pˈeɪlɪst ˈæməθˌɪst. ˈɛvɹi lˈɪmpɪd bɹˈʊk ɪz sˈɪŋɪŋ ʌvðə lˈʊɹ ʌv ˈeɪpɹəl dˈeɪz; ˈɛvɹi pˈaɪni ɡlˈɛn ɪz ɹˈɪŋɪŋ wɪððə mˈædɪst ɹˈaʊndɪlˌeɪz.