text_original: She takes a lute of amber bright, And from the thicket where he lies Her lover, with his almond eyes, Watches her movements in delight. And now she gives a cry of fear, And tiny tears begin to start: A thorn has wounded with its dart The pink veined sea shell of her ear.
text_transcription: SHE TAKES A LUTE OF AMBER BRIGHT AND FROM THE THICKET WHERE HE LIES HER LOVER WITH HIS ALMOND EYES WATCHES HER MOVEMENTS IN DELIGHT AND NOW SHE GIVES A CRY OF FEAR AND TINY TEARS BEGIN TO START A THORN HAS WOUNDED WITH ITS DART THE PINK VEINED SEASHELL OF HER EAR
phonemes: ʃiː tˈeɪks ɐ lˈuːt ʌv ˈæmbɚ bɹˈaɪt, ænd fɹʌmðə θˈɪkɪt wˌɛɹ hiː lˈaɪz hɜː lˈʌvɚ, wɪð hɪz ˈɔlmənd ˈaɪz, wˈɑːtʃᵻz hɜː mˈuːvmənts ɪn dᵻlˈaɪt. ænd nˈaʊ ʃiː ɡˈɪvz ɐ kɹˈaɪ ʌv fˈɪɹ, ænd tˈaɪni tˈɪɹz bɪɡˈɪn tə stˈɑːɹt: ɐ θˈɔːɹn hɐz wˈuːndᵻd wɪð ɪts dˈɑːɹt ðə pˈɪŋk vˈeɪnd sˈiː ʃˈɛl ʌv hɜːɹ ˈɪɹ.