text_original: The darkness stirs, it awakes, it outspreads its arms, O and O! and the birds in their nests are still, The red browed hill bleats low with the lamb's alarms, And a sound of singing comes from the slipping rill.
text_transcription: THE DARKNESS STIRS IT AWAKES IT OUTSPREADS ITS ARMS OH AND OH AND THE BIRDS IN THEIR NESTS ARE STILL THE RED BROWED HILL BLEEDS LOW WITH THE LAMB'S ALARMS AND THE SOUND OF SINGING COMES FROM THE SLIPPING RILL
phonemes: ðə dˈɑːɹknəs stˈɜːz, ɪɾ ɐwˈeɪks, ɪɾ aʊtspɹˈɛdz ɪts ˈɑːɹmz, ˈoʊ ænd ˈoʊ! ænd ðə bˈɜːdz ɪn ðɛɹ nˈɛsts ɑːɹ stˈɪl, ðə ɹˈɛd bɹˈaʊd hˈɪl blˈiːts lˈoʊ wɪððə lˈæmz ɐlˈɑːɹmz, ænd ɐ sˈaʊnd ʌv sˈɪŋɪŋ kˈʌmz fɹʌmðə slˈɪpɪŋ ɹˈɪl.