text_original: Thy sister doth not haunt these fields, Pandion is not here, Here is no cruel Lord with murderous blade, No woven web of bloody heraldries, But mossy dells for roving comrades made, Warm valleys where the tired student lies With half shut book, and many a winding walk Where rustic lovers stray at eve in happy simple talk.
text_transcription: THY SISTER DOTH NOT HAUNT THESE FIELDS PANTION IS NOT HERE HERE IS NO CRUEL LORD WITH MURDEROUS BLADE NO WOVEN WEB OF BLOODY HERALDRIES BUT MOSSY DELLS FOR ROVING COMRADES MADE WARM VALLEYS WHERE THE TIRED STUDENT LIES WITH HALF SHUT BOOK AND MANY A WINDING WALK WHERE RUSTIC LOVERS STRAY AT EVE IN HAPPY SIMPLE TALK
phonemes: ðˌaɪ sˈɪstɚ dʌθ nˌɑːt hˈɔːnt ðiːz fˈiːldz, pˈændiən ɪz nˌɑːt hˈɪɹ, hˈɪɹ ɪz nˈoʊ kɹˈuːəl lˈɔːɹd wɪð mˈɜːdɚɹəs blˈeɪd, nˈoʊ wˈoʊvən wˈɛb ʌv blˈʌdi hˈɛɹəldɹiz, bˌʌt mˈɔsi dˈɛlz fɔːɹ ɹˈoʊvɪŋ kˈɑːmɹædz mˈeɪd, wˈɔːɹm vˈælɪz wˌɛɹ ðə tˈaɪɚd stˈuːdənt lˈaɪz wɪð hˈæf ʃˈʌt bˈʊk, ænd mˈɛni ɐ wˈaɪndɪŋ wˈɔːk wˌɛɹ ɹˈʌstɪk lˈʌvɚz stɹˈeɪ æɾ ˈiːv ɪn hˈæpi sˈɪmpəl tˈɔːk.