text_original: Hushed with broad sunlight lies the hill, And, minuting the long day's loss, The cedar's shadow, slow and still, Creeps o'er its dial of gray moss.
text_transcription: HUSHED WITH BROAD SUNLIGHT LIES THE HILL AND MINUTING THE LONG DAY'S LOSS THE SADDAR'S SHADOW SLOW AND STILL CREEPS OVER ITS STILE OF GRAY MOSS
phonemes: hˈʌʃt wɪð bɹˈɔːd sˈʌnlaɪt lˈaɪz ðə hˈɪl, ænd, mˈɪnɪɾɪŋ ðə lˈɔŋ dˈeɪz lˈɔs, ðə sˈiːdɚz ʃˈædoʊ, slˈoʊ ænd stˈɪl, kɹˈiːps ˈɔːɹ ɪts dˈaɪəl ʌv ɡɹˈeɪ mˈɔs.