text_original: Such as a sister's was thy brow; Thy hair seemed fallen from the moon  Part of its radiance, as now Of shifting tide and dune. Did Autumn's grieving lure thee hence, Or silence ultimate beguile"? Ever our things of consequence Awakened but thy smile.
text_transcription: SUCH AS A SISTER'S WAS THY BROW THY HAIR SEEMED FALLEN FROM THE MOON PART OF ITS RADIANCE AS NOW OF SHIFTING TIDE AND JUNE DID AUTUMN'S GRIEVING LUARDY HENCE OR SILENCE ULTIMATE BEGUILE EVER OUR THINGS OF CONSEQUENCE AWAKENED BUT THY SMIL
phonemes: sˈʌtʃ ɐz ɐ sˈɪstɚz wʌz ðˌaɪ bɹˈaʊ; ðˌaɪ hˈɛɹ sˈiːmd fˈɔːlən fɹʌmðə mˈuːn pˈɑːɹt ʌv ɪts ɹˈeɪdiəns, æz nˈaʊ ʌv ʃˈɪftɪŋ tˈaɪd ænd dˈuːn. dˈɪd ˈɔːɾʌmz ɡɹˈiːvɪŋ lˈʊɹ ðiː hˈɛns, ɔːɹ sˈaɪləns ˈʌltᵻmət bᵻɡˈaɪl"? ˈɛvɚɹ ˌaʊɚ θˈɪŋz ʌv kˈɑːnsɪkwəns ɐwˈeɪkənd bˌʌt ðˌaɪ smˈaɪl.