text_original: A legend that grew in the forest's hush Slowly as tear drops gather and gush, When a word some poet chanced to say Ages ago, in his careless way, Brings our youth back to us out of its shroud Clearly as under yon thunder cloud I see that white sea gull.
text_transcription: A LEGEND THAT GREW IN THE FORESTS HUSH SLOWLY AS TEAR DROPS GATHER AND GUSH WHEN A WORD SOME POET CHANCED TO SAY AGES AGO IN HIS CARELESS WAY BRINGS OUR YOUTH BACK TO US OUT OF ITS SHROUD CLEARLY AS UNDER YON THUNDER CLOUD I SEE THAT WHITE SEA GULL
phonemes: ɐ lˈɛdʒənd ðæt ɡɹˈuː ɪnðə fˈɔːɹɪsts hˈʌʃ slˈoʊli æz tˈɪɹ dɹˈɑːps ɡˈæðɚ ænd ɡˈʌʃ, wˌɛn ɐ wˈɜːd sˌʌm pˈoʊɪt tʃˈænst tə sˈeɪ ˈeɪdʒᵻz ɐɡˈoʊ, ɪn hɪz kˈɛɹləs wˈeɪ, bɹˈɪŋz ˌaʊɚ jˈuːθ bˈæk tʊ ˌʌs ˌaʊɾəv ɪts ʃɹˈaʊd klˈɪɹli æz ˌʌndɚ jˈɑːn θˈʌndɚ klˈaʊd aɪ sˈiː ðæt wˈaɪt sˈiː ɡˈʌl.