text_original: O happy rose, as lying beneath her light caress, Now whisper to her softly, what I may not confess, And tell her she is fairer than bloom of earth, to night, In that her soul exhaleth all virtues pure and bright!
text_transcription: O HAPPY ROSE AS LYING BENEATH HER LIGHT CARESS NOW WHISPER TO HER SOFTLY WHAT I MAY NOT CONFESS AND TELL HER SHE IS FAIRER THAN BLOOM OF EARTH TO NIGHT IN THAT HER SOUL EXHALETH ALL VIRTUES PURE AND BRIGHT
phonemes: ˈoʊ hˈæpi ɹˈoʊz, æz lˈaɪɪŋ bᵻnˌiːθ hɜː lˈaɪt kɚɹˈɛs, nˈaʊ wˈɪspɚ tə hɜː sˈɔftli, wˌʌt aɪ mˈeɪ nˌɑːt kənfˈɛs, ænd tˈɛl hɜː ʃiː ɪz fˈɛɹɚ ðɐn blˈuːm ʌv ˈɜːθ, tə nˈaɪt, ɪn ðæt hɜː sˈoʊl ɛkshˈeɪləθ ˈɔːl vˈɜːtʃuːz pjˈʊɹ ænd bɹˈaɪt!