text_original: The smooth, soft air with pulse like waves Flows murmuring through its hidden caves, Whose streams of brightening purple rush, Fired with a new and livelier blush, While all their burden of decay The ebbing current steals away, And red with Nature's flame they start From the warm fountains of the heart.
text_transcription: THE SMOOTH SOFT AIR WITH PULSE LIKE WAVES FLOWS MURMURING THROUGH ITS HIDDEN CAVES WHOSE STREAMS OF BRIGHTENING PURPLE RUSH FIRED WITH A NEW AND LIVELIER BLUSH WHILE ALL THEIR BURDEN OF DECAY THE EBBING CURRENT STEALS AWAY AND RED WITH NATURE'S FLAME THEY START FROM THE WARM FOUNTAINS OF THE HEART
phonemes: ðə smˈuːð, sˈɔft ˈɛɹ wɪð pˈʌls lˈaɪk wˈeɪvz flˈoʊz mˈɜːmɚɹɪŋ θɹuː ɪts hˈɪdən kˈeɪvz, hˌuːz stɹˈiːmz ʌv bɹˈaɪʔn̩ɪŋ pˈɜːpəl ɹˈʌʃ, fˈaɪɚd wɪð ɐ nˈuː ænd lˈaɪvlɪɚ blˈʌʃ, wˌaɪl ˈɔːl ðɛɹ bˈɜːdən ʌv dᵻkˈeɪ ðɪ ˈɛbɪŋ kˈɜːɹənt stˈiːlz ɐwˈeɪ, ænd ɹˈɛd wɪð nˈeɪtʃɚz flˈeɪm ðeɪ stˈɑːɹt fɹʌmðə wˈɔːɹm fˈaʊntɪnz ʌvðə hˈɑːɹt.