text_original: Till a small cloud rose to the shoreward, and a gust broke out of the cloud, And the spray beat over the rowers, and the murmur of winds was loud, With the voice of the far off thunders, till the shuddering air grew warm, And the day was as dark as at even, and the wild god rode on the storm.
text_transcription: TILL A SMALL CLOUD ROSE TO THE SHORE WOOD AND THE GUST BROKE OUT OF THE CLOUD AND THE SPRAY BEAT OVER THE ROWERS AND THE MURMUR OF WINDS WAS LOUD WITH THE VOICE OF THE FAR OFF THUNDERS TILL THE SHUDDERING AIR GREW WARM AND THE DAY WAS AS DARK AS AT EVEN AND THE WILD GOD RODE ON THE STORM
phonemes: tˈɪl ɐ smˈɔːl klˈaʊd ɹˈoʊz tə ðə ʃˈɔːɹwɔːɹd, ænd ɐ ɡˈʌst bɹˈoʊk ˌaʊɾəv ðə klˈaʊd, ænd ðə spɹˈeɪ bˈiːt ˌoʊvɚ ðə ɹˈoʊɚz, ænd ðə mˈɜːmɚɹ ʌv wˈɪndz wʌz lˈaʊd, wɪððə vˈɔɪs ʌvðə fˈɑːɹ ˈɔf θˈʌndɚz, tˈɪl ðə ʃˈʌdɚɹɪŋ ˈɛɹ ɡɹˈuː wˈɔːɹm, ænd ðə dˈeɪ wʌz æz dˈɑːɹk æz æɾ ˈiːvən, ænd ðə wˈaɪld ɡˈɑːd ɹˈoʊd ɔnðə stˈɔːɹm.