text_original: When the mist drives past and the wind blows high, And the harbour lights are dim   See where they circle, and dip and fly, The grey free lances of wind and sky, To the far horizon's rim.
text_transcription: WHEN THE MIST DRIVES PAST AND THE WIND BLOWS HIGH AND THE HARBOUR LIGHTS ARE DIM SEE WHERE THEY CIRCLE AND DIP AND FLY THE GRAY FREE LANCES OF WIND AND SKY TO THE FAR HORIZON'S RIM
phonemes: wˌɛn ðə mˈɪst dɹˈaɪvz pˈæst ænd ðə wˈɪnd blˈoʊz hˈaɪ, ænd ðə hˈɑːɹbɚ lˈaɪts ɑːɹ dˈɪm sˈiː wˌɛɹ ðeɪ sˈɜːkəl, ænd dˈɪp ænd flˈaɪ, ðə ɡɹˈeɪ fɹˈiː lˈænsᵻz ʌv wˈɪnd ænd skˈaɪ, tə ðə fˈɑːɹ hɚɹˈaɪzənz ɹˈɪm.