text_original: But the sea folk gathering rushes come up from the windy shore, So the song that the years have silenced grows musical there once more; And now and again unburied, like some still voice from the dead, They light on the fallen shoulder and the lines of a marble head.
text_transcription: BUT THE SEA FOLK GATHERING RUSHES COME UP FROM THE WINDY SHORE SO THE SONG THAT THE YEARS HAVE SILENCED GROWS MUSICAL THERE ONCE MORE AND NOW AND AGAIN UNBURIED LIKE SOME STILL VOICE FROM THE DEAD THEY LIGHT ON THE FALLEN SHOULDER AND THE LINES OF A MARBLE HEAD
phonemes: bˌʌt ðə sˈiː fˈoʊk ɡˈæðɚɹɪŋ ɹˈʌʃᵻz kˈʌm ˌʌp fɹʌmðə wˈɪndi ʃˈɔːɹ, sˌoʊ ðə sˈɔŋ ðætðə jˈɪɹz hæv sˈaɪlənst ɡɹˈoʊz mjˈuːzɪkəl ðɛɹ wˈʌns mˈɔːɹ; ænd nˈaʊ ænd ɐɡˈɛn ʌnbˈɛɹid, lˈaɪk sˌʌm stˈɪl vˈɔɪs fɹʌmðə dˈɛd, ðeɪ lˈaɪt ɔnðə fˈɔːlən ʃˈoʊldɚ ænd ðə lˈaɪnz əvə mˈɑːɹbəl hˈɛd.