text_original: O, moonlight deep and tender, A year and more agone, Your mist of golden splendor Round my betrothal shone! O, elm leaves dark and dewy, The very same ye seem, The low wind trembles through ye, Ye murmur in my dream!
text_transcription: O MOONLIGHT DEEP AND TENDER A YEAR AND MORE GONE YOUR MIST OF GOLDEN SPLENDOUR ROUND MY BETROTHAL SHONE O ELM LEAVES DARK AND DEWY THE VERY SAME YOU SEEM THE LOW WIND TREMBLES THROUGH YE YOU MURMUR IN MY DREAM
phonemes: ˈoʊ, mˈuːnlaɪt dˈiːp ænd tˈɛndɚ, ɐ jˈɪɹ ænd mˈɔːɹ ˈæɡɑːn, jʊɹ mˈɪst ʌv ɡˈoʊldən splˈɛndɚ ɹˈaʊnd maɪ bᵻtɹˈoʊðəl ʃˈɑːn! ˈoʊ, ˈɛlm lˈiːvz dˈɑːɹk ænd dˈuːi, ðə vˈɛɹi sˈeɪm jiː sˈiːm, ðə lˈoʊ wˈɪnd tɹˈɛmbəlz θɹuː jˈiː, jiː mˈɜːmɚɹ ɪn maɪ dɹˈiːm!