text_original: It is not music she essays, But just a hint of what shall be When earth and sky and nights and days Join in the summer harmony. PRELUDE And do we dream, or is it true, The grass so brown but yester morn Has caught a subtly greener hue In sheltered corners of the lawn
text_transcription: IT IS NOT MUSIC SHE ESSAYS BUT JUST A HINT OF WHAT SHALL BE WHEN EARTH AND SKY AND NIGHTS AND DAYS JOIN IN THE SUMMER HARMONY AND DO WE DREAM OR IS IT TRUE THE GRASS SO BROWN BUT YESTER MORN HAS CAUGHT A SUBTLY GREENER YEW IN SHELTERED CORNERS OF THE LAWN
phonemes: ɪɾ ɪz nˌɑːt mjˈuːzɪk ʃiː ˈɛseɪz, bˌʌt dʒˈʌst ɐ hˈɪnt ʌv wʌt ʃˌæl biː wɛn ˈɜːθ ænd skˈaɪ ænd nˈaɪts ænd dˈeɪz dʒˈɔɪn ɪnðə sˈʌmɚ hˈɑːɹməni. pɹˈeɪluːd ænd dˈuː wiː dɹˈiːm, ɔːɹ ɪz ɪt tɹˈuː, ðə ɡɹˈæs sˌoʊ bɹˈaʊn bˌʌt jˈɛstɚ mˈɔːɹn hɐz kˈɔːt ɐ sˈʌɾəli ɡɹˈiːnɚ hjˈuː ɪn ʃˈɛltɚd kˈɔːɹnɚz ʌvðə lˈɔːn