text_original: From pool to pool, in liquid grace, A glass o'er which I bent to look At my enmirrored face — 122 "THE HARLOTS WAKENING A girlish face, with placid brow All innocent of care and hate, — With eyes I cannot fathom now And lips iindesecrate. My sister's laugh, my brother's call — So would the morning larks rejoice I But nearer, dearer far than all, I heard my mother's voice.
text_transcription: FROM POOL TO POOL IN LIQUID GRACE A GLASS OVER WHICH I BENT TO LOOK AT MY UNMIRRORED FACE A GIRLISH FACE WITH PLACID BROW ALL INNOCENT OF CARE AND HATE WITH EYES I CANNOT FATHOM NOW AND LIPS UNDESECRATE MY SISTERS LAUGH MY BROTHERS CALL SO WOULD THE MORNING LARKS REJOICE BUT NEARER DEARER FAR THAN ALL I HEARD MY MOTHER'S VOICE
phonemes: fɹʌm pˈuːl tə pˈuːl, ɪn lˈɪkwɪd ɡɹˈeɪs, ɐ ɡlˈæs ˈɔːɹ wˌɪtʃ aɪ bˈɛnt tə lˈʊk æt maɪ ˈɛnmɪɹɚd fˈeɪs — wˈʌnhˈʌndɹɪd twˈɛnti tˈuː "ðə hˈɑːɹlɑːts wˈeɪkənɪŋ ɐ ɡˈɜːlɪʃ fˈeɪs, wɪð plˈæsɪd bɹˈaʊ ˈɔːl ˈɪnəsənt ʌv kˈɛɹ ænd hˈeɪt, — wɪð ˈaɪz aɪ kænˈɑːt fˈæðəm nˈaʊ ænd lˈɪps ˈɪɪndˌɛsɪkɹˌeɪt. maɪ sˈɪstɚz lˈæf, maɪ bɹˈʌðɚz kˈɔːl — sˌoʊ wʊd ðə mˈɔːɹnɪŋ lˈɑːɹks ɹᵻdʒˈɔɪs aɪ bˌʌt nˈɪɹɚ, dˈɪɹɚ fˈɑːɹ ðɐn ˈɔːl, aɪ hˈɜːd maɪ mˈʌðɚz vˈɔɪs.