text_original: White Fog Heaven invading hills are drowned In wide moving waves of mist, Phlox before my door are wound In dripping wreaths of amethyst.
text_transcription: WHITE FOG HEAVEN INVADING HILLS ARE DROWNED IN WIDE MOVING WAVES OF MIST FLOCKS BEFORE MY DOOR ARE FOUND IN DRIPPING WREATHS OF AMETHYST
phonemes: wˈaɪt fˈɑːɡ hˈɛvən ɪnvˈeɪdɪŋ hˈɪlz ɑːɹ dɹˈaʊnd ɪn wˈaɪd mˈuːvɪŋ wˈeɪvz ʌv mˈɪst, flˈɑːks bᵻfˌɔːɹ maɪ dˈɔːɹ ɑːɹ wˈaʊnd ɪn dɹˈɪpɪŋ ɹˈiːθs ʌv ˈæməθˌɪst.