text_original: A FISHERMAN gray, one night of yore, His nets upgathered, plied the oar, Right merrily heading for a haven, While summer winds blew blithe before.
text_transcription: A FISHERMAN GRAY ONE NIGHT OF YORE HIS NETS UPGATHERED PLIED THE OAR RIGHT MERRILY HEADING FOR A HAVEN WHILE SUMMER WINDS BLEW BLITHE BEFORE
phonemes: ɐ fˈɪʃɚmən ɡɹˈeɪ, wˈʌn nˈaɪt ʌv jˈɔːɹ, hɪz nˈɛts ʌpɡˈæðɚd, plˈaɪd ðɪ ˈɔːɹ, ɹˈaɪt mˈɛɹili hˈɛdɪŋ fɚɹə hˈeɪvən, wˌaɪl sˈʌmɚ wˈɪndz blˈuː blˈaɪð bᵻfˈɔːɹ.