text_original: Nearer it comes, still nearer, then a cry, Half sob, half shriek, goes piercing God's blue sky, And Brewster, like a nimble footed doe, Or like an arrow hurrying from a bow, Shoots swiftly through the intervening space And that lost sister clasps, in sorrowing love's embrace.
text_transcription: NEARER IT COMES STILL NEARER THEN A CRY HALF SOB HALF SHRIEK GOES PIERCING GOD'S BLUE SKY AND BREWSTER LIKE A NIMBLE FOOTED DOE OR LIKE AN ARROW HURRYING FROM A BOW SHOOTS SWIFTLY THROUGH THE INTERVENING SPACE AND THAT LOST SISTER CLASPS IN SORROWING LOVE'S EMBRACE
phonemes: nˈɪɹɚɹ ɪt kˈʌmz, stˈɪl nˈɪɹɚ, ðˈɛn ɐ kɹˈaɪ, hˈæf sˈɑːb, hˈæf ʃɹˈiːk, ɡoʊz pˈɪɹsɪŋ ɡˈɑːdz blˈuː skˈaɪ, ænd bɹˈuːstɚ, lˈaɪk ɐ nˈɪmbəl fˈʊɾᵻd dˈoʊ, ɔːɹ lˈaɪk ɐn ˈæɹoʊ hˈɜːɹiɪŋ fɹʌm ɐ bˈoʊ, ʃˈuːts swˈɪftli θɹuː ðɪ ˌɪntɚvˈiːnɪŋ spˈeɪs ænd ðæt lˈɔst sˈɪstɚ klˈæsps, ɪn sˈɑːɹoʊɪŋ lˈʌvz ɛmbɹˈeɪs.