text_original: IN THE GREEN YEW The wind is howling in angry pain, Ah me, and I cannot rest; On such a night home is best, Why does she stand in the same old place With the smile of smiles on her cold white face And call me thro' the rain?
text_transcription: IN THE GREEN YEW THE WIND IS HOWLING IN ANGRY PAIN AH ME AND I CANNOT REST ON SUCH A NIGHT HOME IS BEST WHY DOES SHE STAND IN THE SAME OLD PLACE WITH THE SMILE OF SMILES ON HER COLD WHITE FACE AND CALL ME THROUGH THE RAIN
phonemes: ɪnðə ɡɹˈiːn wˌaɪˌiːdˈʌbəljˌuː ðə wˈɪnd ɪz hˈaʊlɪŋ ɪn ˈæŋɡɹi pˈeɪn, ˈɑː mˌiː, ænd aɪ kænˈɑːt ɹˈɛst; ˌɔn sˈʌtʃ ɐ nˈaɪt hˈoʊm ɪz bˈɛst, wˌaɪ dˈʌz ʃiː stˈænd ɪnðə sˈeɪm ˈoʊld plˈeɪs wɪððə smˈaɪl ʌv smˈaɪlz ˌɔn hɜː kˈoʊld wˈaɪt fˈeɪs ænd kˈɔːl mˌiː θɹˈoʊ ðə ɹˈeɪn?