text_original: The trees below like lace veil glistening streams, The gorse puts on its tiny gloves of gold, The cattle move as though they fed in dreams, And timid lambs are bleating in the fold.
text_transcription: THE TREES BELOW LIKE LACE VEIL GLISTENING STREAMS THE GORSE PUTS ON ITS TINY GLOVES OF GOLD THE CATTLE MOVE AS THOUGH THEY FED IN DREAMS AND TIMID LAMBS ARE BLEATING IN THE FOLD
phonemes: ðə tɹˈiːz bᵻlˌoʊ lˈaɪk lˈeɪs vˈeɪl ɡlˈɪsənɪŋ stɹˈiːmz, ðə ɡˈɔːɹs pˌʊts ˌɔn ɪts tˈaɪni ɡlˈʌvz ʌv ɡˈoʊld, ðə kˈæɾəl mˈuːv æz ðˌoʊ ðeɪ fˈɛd ɪn dɹˈiːmz, ænd tˈɪmɪd lˈæmz ɑːɹ blˈiːɾɪŋ ɪnðə fˈoʊld.