text_original: Set gently waving in the wind; Or her long hands that I may find On some day sweet to move o'er me? _Beata mea Domina!_ God pity me though, if I miss'd The telling, how along her wrist The veins creep, dying languidly _Beata mea Domina!
text_transcription: SET GENTLY WAVING IN THE WIND OR HER LONG HANDS THAT I MAY FIND ON SOME DAY SWEET TO MOVE OVER ME BEATA MEIA DORMINA GOD PITY ME THOUGH IF I MISS THE TELLING HOW ALONG HER WRISTS THE VEINS CREEP DYING LANGUIDLY BEATA MAIA DORMINA
phonemes: sˈɛt dʒˈɛntli wˈeɪvɪŋ ɪnðə wˈɪnd; ɔːɹ hɜː lˈɔŋ hˈændz ðæt aɪ mˈeɪ fˈaɪnd ˌɔn sˌʌm dˈeɪ swˈiːt tə mˈuːv ˈɔːɹ mˌiː? bˈiːɾə mˈiː dˈɑːmɪnə!ɡˈɑːd pˈɪɾi mˌiː ðˌoʊ, ɪf aɪ mˈɪsd ðə tˈɛlɪŋ, hˌaʊ ɐlˈɔŋ hɜː ɹˈɪst ðə vˈeɪnz kɹˈiːp, dˈaɪɪŋ lˈæŋɡwɪdli bˈiːɾə mˈiː dˈɑːmɪnə!