text_original: 89 THE SIBYL OF DREAMS The rose she gathers is invisible, But ah I its fragrance on the visioned air — The scent of Paphian flowers warm and fair; The breath of blossoms delicate and chill, By Dian tended on her vestal hill.
text_transcription: NYA THE SYBYL OF DREAMS THE ROSE SHE GATHERS IS INVISIBLE BUT AH ITS FRAGRANCE ON THE VISIONED AIR THE SCENT OF PAPIAN FLOWERS WARM AND FAIR THE BREATH OF BLOSSOMS DELICATE AND CHILL BY DION TENDED ON HER VESTAL HILL
phonemes: ˈeɪɾi nˈaɪn ðə sˈɪbɪl ʌv dɹˈiːmz ðə ɹˈoʊz ʃiː ɡˈæðɚz ɪz ɪnvˈɪzᵻbəl, bˌʌt ˈɑː aɪ ɪts fɹˈeɪɡɹəns ɔnðə vˈɪʒənd ˈɛɹ — ðə sˈɛnt ʌv pˈæfiən flˈaʊɚz wˈɔːɹm ænd fˈɛɹ; ðə bɹˈɛθ ʌv blˈɔsəmz dˈɛlᵻkət ænd tʃˈɪl, baɪ daɪˈæn tˈɛndᵻd ˌɔn hɜː vˈɛstəl hˈɪl.