text_original: PERSONAL POEMS TO MARGARET ANGLIN IN THE GREEK TRAGEDIES She has heard mighty music from the Past, And deathless trumpets from oblivion, And she has seen the blood of heroes run To stain the morning of a day forecast. How high, O Art, the ministry thou hast! Behold! the magic of thy chosen one Has called their shades from Lethe to the sun, And ghosts of gods from heavens that could not last.
text_transcription: ORK BY SONYA TO MARGARET ANGLIN IN THE GREEK TRAGEDIES SHE HAS HEARD MIGHTY MUSIC FROM THE PAST AND DEATHLESS TRUMPETS FROM OBLIVION AND SHE HAS SEEN THE BLOOD OF HEROES RUN TO STAIN THE MORNING OF A DAY FORECAST HOW HIGH O ART THE MINISTRY THOU HAST BEHOLD THE MAGIC OF THY CHOSEN ONE HAS CALLED THEIR SHADES FROM LEATHY TO THE SUN AND GHOSTS OF GODS FROM HEAVENS THAT COULD NOT LAST
phonemes: pˈɜːsənəl pˈoʊᵻmz tuː mˈɑːɹɡɹət ˈæŋɡlɪn ɪnðə ɡɹˈiːk tɹˈædʒədiz ʃiː hɐz hˈɜːd mˈaɪɾi mjˈuːzɪk fɹʌmðə pˈæst, ænd dˈɛθləs tɹˈʌmpɪts fɹʌm əblˈɪviən, ænd ʃiː hɐz sˈiːn ðə blˈʌd ʌv hˈiəɹoʊz ɹˈʌn tə stˈeɪn ðə mˈɔːɹnɪŋ əvə dˈeɪ fˈɔːɹkæst. hˌaʊ hˈaɪ, ˈoʊ ˈɑːɹt, ðə mˈɪnɪstɹi ðˈaʊ hˈeɪst! bᵻhˈoʊld! ðə mˈædʒɪk ʌv ðˌaɪ tʃˈoʊzən wˈʌn hɐz kˈɔːld ðɛɹ ʃˈeɪdz fɹʌm lˈɛð tə ðə sˈʌn, ænd ɡˈoʊsts ʌv ɡˈɑːdz fɹʌm hˈɛvənz ðæt kʊd nˌɑːt lˈæst.