text_original: Always before, when Maytime took her way Across the fields, I followed close. To day I can but dream of all her bright array. My work drops down.
text_transcription: ALWAYS BEFORE WHEN MAYTIME TOOK HER WAY ACROSS THE FIELDS I FOLLOWED CLOSE TO DAY I CAN BUT DREAM OF ALL HER BRIGHT ARRAY MY WORK DROPS DOWN
phonemes: ˈɔːlweɪz bᵻfˈɔːɹ, wˌɛn mˈeɪtaɪm tˈʊk hɜː wˈeɪ əkɹˌɑːs ðə fˈiːldz, aɪ fˈɑːloʊd klˈoʊs. tə dˈeɪ aɪ kæn bˌʌt dɹˈiːm ʌv ˈɔːl hɜː bɹˈaɪt ɚɹˈeɪ. maɪ wˈɜːk dɹˈɑːps dˈaʊn.