text_original: Yet boughs turn supple and buds grow sappy, As though the sun were indeed the sun: And all our woods are happy With all their birds save one.
text_transcription: YET BOUGHS TURN SUPPLE AND BUDS GROW SAPPY AS THOUGH THE SUN WERE INDEED THE SUN AND ALL OUR WOODS ARE HAPPY WITH ALL THEIR BIRDS SAVE ONE
phonemes: jˈɛt bˈaʊz tˈɜːn sˈʌpəl ænd bˈʌdz ɡɹˈoʊ sˈæpi, æz ðˌoʊ ðə sˈʌn wɜːɹ ˌɪndˈiːd ðə sˈʌn: ænd ˈɔːl ˌaʊɚ wˈʊdz ɑːɹ hˈæpi wɪð ˈɔːl ðɛɹ bˈɜːdz sˈeɪv wˌʌn.