text_original: 74 THE WELCOME Once like a cloud of incense curled To some dim god, the veil shall pass, Once I shall be the moving world Before I break and change to grass.
text_transcription: E ONCE LIKE A CLOUD OF INCENSE CURLED TO SOME DIM GOD THE VEIL SHALL PASS ONCE I SHALL BE THE MOVING WORLD BEFORE I BREAK AND CHANGE TO GRASS
phonemes: sˈɛvənti fˈɔːɹ ðə wˈɛlkʌm wˈʌns lˈaɪk ɐ klˈaʊd ʌv ˈɪnsɛns kˈɜːld tə sˌʌm dˈɪm ɡˈɑːd, ðə vˈeɪl ʃˌæl pˈæs, wˈʌns aɪʃˌɐl biː ðə mˈuːvɪŋ wˈɜːld bᵻfˌɔːɹ aɪ bɹˈeɪk ænd tʃˈeɪndʒ tə ɡɹˈæs.