text_original: I held the keepsake which you gave, Until the dim smoke pennon curled O'er the vague rim 'tween sky and wave, And closed the distance like a grave, Leaving me to the outer world; The old worn world of hurry and heat, The young, fresh world of thought and scope; While you, where silent surges fleet Toward far sky beaches still and sweet, Sunk wavering down the ocean slope.
text_transcription: I HELD THE KEEPSAKE WHICH YOU GAVE UNTIL THE DIM SMOKE PANNON CURLED OVER THE VAGUE RIM BETWEEN SKY AND WAVE AND CLOSE THE DISTANCE LIKE A GRAVE LEAVING ME TO THE OUTER WORLD THE OLD WORN WORLD OF HURRY AND HEAT THE YOUNG FRESH WORLD OF THOUGHT AND SCOPE WHILE YOU WHERE SILENT SEARCHES FLEET TOWARD FAR SKY BEACHES STILL AND SWEET SUNK WAVERING DOWN THE OCEAN SLOPE
phonemes: aɪ hˈɛld ðə kˈiːpseɪk wˌɪtʃ juː ɡˈeɪv, ʌntˈɪl ðə dˈɪm smˈoʊk pˈɛnən kˈɜːld ˈɔːɹ ðə vˈeɪɡ ɹˈɪm twˈiːn skˈaɪ ænd wˈeɪv, ænd klˈoʊzd ðə dˈɪstəns lˈaɪk ɐ ɡɹˈeɪv, lˈiːvɪŋ mˌiː tə ðɪ ˈaʊɾɚ wˈɜːld; ðɪ ˈoʊld wˈɔːɹn wˈɜːld ʌv hˈɜːɹi ænd hˈiːt, ðə jˈʌŋ, fɹˈɛʃ wˈɜːld ʌv θˈɔːt ænd skˈoʊp; wˌaɪl juː, wˌɛɹ sˈaɪlənt sˈɜːdʒᵻz flˈiːt təwˈɔːɹd fˈɑːɹ skˈaɪ bˈiːtʃᵻz stˈɪl ænd swˈiːt, sˈʌŋk wˈeɪvɚɹɪŋ dˌaʊn ðɪ ˈoʊʃən slˈoʊp.