text_original: By ecstasy foretold; Yet as with blood thy bosom gleams; 37 fHE HOUSE OF ORCHIDS Red as Adonis' wound it seems, By Syria mourned of old, Or scarlet lips that drink from bowls of jade. Slowly, an ivory poison, sweet and cold.
text_transcription: BY ECSTASY FORETOLD YET AS WITH BLOOD THY BOSOM GLEAMS RED AS ADONE'S WOUND IT SEEMS BY SYRIA MOURNED OF OLD OR SCARLET LIPS THAT DRINK FROM BOWELS OF JADE SLOWLY AN IVORY POISON SWEET AND COLD
phonemes: baɪ ˈɛkstəsi fɔːɹtˈoʊld; jˈɛt æz wɪð blˈʌd ðˌaɪ bˈʊzəm ɡlˈiːmz; θˈɜːɾi sˈɛvən ˈɛf hiː hˈaʊs ʌv ˈɔːɹkɪdz ɹˈɛd æz ˈædənˌɪs wˈuːnd ɪt sˈiːmz, baɪ sˈɪɹiə mˈɔːɹnd ʌv ˈoʊld, ɔːɹ skˈɑːɹlɪt lˈɪps ðæt dɹˈɪŋk fɹʌm bˈoʊlz ʌv dʒˈeɪd. slˈoʊli, ɐn ˈaɪvɚɹi pˈɔɪzən, swˈiːt ænd kˈoʊld.