text_original: Aye, not a meadow my step has trod, Never a flower swung sweet to my face, Never a heart that was touched of God, But taught me its grace.
text_transcription: AY NOT A MEADOW MY STEP HAS TROD NEVER A FLOWER SWUNG SWEET TO MY FACE NEVER A HEART THAT WAS TOUCHED OF GOD BUT TAUGHT ME ITS GRACE
phonemes: ˈaɪ, nˌɑːɾə mˈɛdoʊ maɪ stˈɛp hɐz tɹˈɑːd, nˈɛvɚɹ ɐ flˈaʊɚ swˈʌŋ swˈiːt tə maɪ fˈeɪs, nˈɛvɚɹ ɐ hˈɑːɹt ðæt wʌz tˈʌtʃt ʌv ɡˈɑːd, bˌʌt tˈɔːt mˌiː ɪts ɡɹˈeɪs.