text_original: Yea, thou art Hers, who makes prayer of the breeze, Hope of the cool upwelling from sweet soils, Faith of the darkening distance, charities Of vesper scents, and of the glow worm's throb Joy whose first leaping rends the care wound coils That would earth of its heavenliness rob. 3 But few, how few her worshippers!
text_transcription: YEA THOU ART HERS WHO MAKES PRAYER OF THE BREEZE HOPE OF THE COOL UPWELLING FROM SWEET SOILS FAITH OF THE DARK'NING DISTANCE CHARITIES OF VESPER SCENTS AND OF THE GLOW WORM'S THROB JOY WHOSE FIRST LEAPING RENDS THE CAREW WOUND COILS THAT WOULD EARTH OF ITS HEAVENLINESS ROB THREE BUT FEW HOW FEW HER WORSHIPERS
phonemes: jˈeɪ, ðˈaʊ ˈɑːɹt hˈɜːz, hˌuː mˌeɪks pɹˈɛɹ ʌvðə bɹˈiːz, hˈoʊp ʌvðə kˈuːl ˈʌpwəlɪŋ fɹʌm swˈiːt sˈɔɪlz, fˈeɪθ ʌvðə dˈɑːɹkənɪŋ dˈɪstəns, tʃˈæɹᵻɾiz ʌv vˈɛspɚ sˈɛnts, ænd ʌvðə ɡlˈoʊ wˈɜːmz θɹˈɑːb dʒˈɔɪ hˌuːz fˈɜːst lˈiːpɪŋ ɹˈɛndz ðə kˈɛɹ wˈuːnd kˈɔɪlz ðæt wʊd ˈɜːθ ʌv ɪts hˈɛvənlinəs ɹˈɑːb. θɹˈiː bˌʌt fjˈuː, hˌaʊ fjˈuː hɜː wˈɜːʃɪpɚz!