text_original: The water street where oarsmen meet And shout ahead, The glowing quay, all noise and glee, Seemed hallowed as when angels' feet Touched Jacob's stony bed. On pearly dome and princely home Day's glory dies: Once more the bells' low murmur tells That faith is not a line of foam Nor life a bridge of sighs.
text_transcription: THE WATER STREET WHERE OARSMEN MEET AND SHOUT AHEAD THE GLOWING KEY ALL NOISE AND GLEE SEEMED HALLOWED AS WHEN ANGEL'S FEET TOUCHED JACOB'S STONY BED ON PEARLY DOME AND PRINCELY HOME DAY'S GLORY DIES ONCE MORE THE BELL'S LOW MURMUR TELLS THAT FAITH IS NOT A LION OF FOAM NOR LIFE A BRIDGE OF SIZE
phonemes: ðə wˈɔːɾɚ stɹˈiːt wˌɛɹ ˈɔːɹzmɛn mˈiːt ænd ʃˈaʊt ɐhˈɛd, ðə ɡlˈoʊɪŋ kˈiː, ˈɔːl nˈɔɪz ænd ɡlˈiː, sˈiːmd hˈæloʊd æz wɛn ˈeɪndʒəlz fˈiːt tˈʌtʃt dʒˈeɪkəbz stˈoʊni bˈɛd. ˌɔn pˈɜːli dˈoʊm ænd pɹˈɪnsli hˈoʊm dˈeɪz ɡlˈɔːɹi dˈaɪz: wˈʌns mˈɔːɹ ðə bˈɛlz lˈoʊ mˈɜːmɚ tˈɛlz ðæt fˈeɪθ ɪz nˌɑːɾə lˈaɪn ʌv fˈoʊm nˈɔːɹ lˈaɪf ɐ bɹˈɪdʒ ʌv sˈaɪz.