text_original: * * * * * But yestermorn it was, the second night Comes softly stealing over yon blue steep; The world grows silent in the fading light, There is no joy but sleep.
text_transcription: BUT YESTER MORN IT WAS THE SECOND NIGHT COMES SOFTLY STEALING OVER YON BLUE STEEP THE WORLD GROWS SILENT IN THE FADING LIGHT THERE IS NO JOY BUT SLEEP
phonemes: ˈæstɚɹˌɪsk ˈæstɚɹˌɪsk ˈæstɚɹˌɪsk bˌʌt jˈɛstɚmˌɔːɹn ɪt wˈʌz, ðə sˈɛkənd nˈaɪt kˈʌmz sˈɔftli stˈiːlɪŋ ˌoʊvɚ jˈɑːn blˈuː stˈiːp; ðə wˈɜːld ɡɹˈoʊz sˈaɪlənt ɪnðə fˈeɪdɪŋ lˈaɪt, ðɛɹ ɪz nˈoʊ dʒˈɔɪ bˌʌt slˈiːp.