text_original: Then the silver sheen Of harvest moon shines down on rustling corn Until the hazy air of Autumn thrills With sound of woodman's ax and hunter's horn, And darker shadows climb the russet hills.
text_transcription: THEN THE SILVER SHEEN OF HARVEST MOON SHINES DOWN ON RUSTLING CORN UNTIL THE HAZY AIR OF AUTUMN THRILLS WITH SOUND OF WOODMAN'S AXE AND HUNTER'S HORN AND DARKER SHADOWS CLIMB THE RUSSET HILLS
phonemes: ðˈɛn ðə sˈɪlvɚ ʃˈiːn ʌv hˈɑːɹvɪst mˈuːn ʃˈaɪnz dˌaʊn ˌɔn ɹˈʌsəlɪŋ kˈɔːɹn ʌntˈɪl ðə hˈeɪzi ˈɛɹ ʌv ˈɔːɾʌm θɹˈɪlz wɪð sˈaʊnd ʌv wˈʊdmənz ˈæks ænd hˈʌntɚz hˈɔːɹn, ænd dˈɑːɹkɚ ʃˈædoʊz klˈaɪm ðə ɹˈʌsɛt hˈɪlz.