text_original: Why do you make me leave the house And think for a breath it is you I see At the end of the alley of bending boughs Where so often at dusk you used to be; Till in darkening dankness The yawning blankness Of the perspective sickens me!
text_transcription: WHY DO YOU MAKE ME LEAVE THE HOUSE AND THINK FOR BREATH IT IS YOU I SEE AT THE END OF THE ALLEY OF BENDING BOUGHS WHERE SO OFTEN AT DUSK HE USED TO BE TILL IN DARKENING DANKNESS THE YAWNING BLANKNESS OF THE PERSPECTIVE SICKENS ME
phonemes: wˌaɪ dˈuː juː mˌeɪk mˌiː lˈiːv ðə hˈaʊs ænd θˈɪŋk fɚɹə bɹˈɛθ ɪɾ ɪz juː aɪ sˈiː æt ðɪ ˈɛnd ʌvðɪ ˈæli ʌv bˈɛndɪŋ bˈaʊz wˌɛɹ sˌoʊ ˈɔfən æt dˈʌsk juː jˈuːzd tə bˈiː; tˈɪl ɪn dˈɑːɹkənɪŋ dˈæŋknəs ðə jˈɔːnɪŋ blˈæŋknəs ʌvðə pɚspˈɛktɪv sˈɪkənz mˌiː!