text_original: THE SHEPHERD WIND When hills and plains are powdered white, And bitter cold the north wind blows, Upon my window in the night A fairy garden grows.
text_transcription: THE SHEPHERD WIND WHEN HILLS AND PLAINS ARE POWDERED WHITE AND BITTER COLD THE NORTH WIND BLOWS UPON MY WINDOW IN THE NIGHT A FAIRY GARDEN GROWS
phonemes: ðə ʃˈɛpɚd wˈɪnd wɛn hˈɪlz ænd plˈeɪnz ɑːɹ pˈaʊdɚd wˈaɪt, ænd bˈɪɾɚ kˈoʊld ðə nˈɔːɹθ wˈɪnd blˈoʊz, əpˌɑːn maɪ wˈɪndoʊ ɪnðə nˈaɪt ɐ fˈɛɹi ɡˈɑːɹdən ɡɹˈoʊz.