text_original: About the morn like store of roses shed I saw earth glories, yet toward the ray Of highest heaven my track of travel lay Where bliss holds you— from me uncomforted
text_transcription: ABOUT THE MORN LIKE STAR OF ROSES SHED I SAW EARTH GLORIES YET TOWARD THE RAY OF HIGHEST HEAVEN MY TRACK OF TRAVEL LAY WHERE BLISS HOLDS YOU FROM ME UNCOMFORTED
phonemes: ɐbˌaʊt ðə mˈɔːɹn lˈaɪk stˈɔːɹ ʌv ɹˈoʊzᵻz ʃˈɛd aɪ sˈɔː ˈɜːθ ɡlˈɔːɹiz, jˈɛt təwˈɔːɹd ðə ɹˈeɪ ʌv hˈaɪɪst hˈɛvən maɪ tɹˈæk ʌv tɹˈævəl lˈeɪ wˌɛɹ blˈɪs hˈoʊldz juː— fɹʌm mˌiː ʌŋkˈʌmfɚɾᵻd