text_original: MOTHER LOVE The seraphs would sing to her And from the River Dip her cool grails of radiant Life. The angels would bring to her, Sadly a quiver, Laurels she never had won in earth strife. And often they'd fly with her O'er the star spaces   Silent by worlds where mortals are pent. Yea, even would sigh with her, Sigh with wan faces! When she sat weeping of strange discontent.
text_transcription: MOTHER LOVE THE SERAPHS WOULD SING TO HER AND FROM THE RIVER DIP HER COOL GRAILS OF RADIANT LIFE THE ANGELS WOULD BRING TO HER SADLY A QUIVER LAURELS SHE NEVER HAD WON IN EARTH'S STRIFE AND OFTEN THEY'D FLY WITH HER OVER THE STAR SPACES SILENT BY WORLDS WHERE MORTALS ARE PENT YEA EVEN WOULD SIGH WITH HER SIGH WITH WAN FACES WHEN SHE SAT WEEPING OF STRANGE DISCONTENT
phonemes: mˈʌðɚ lˈʌv ðə sˈɛɹəfz wʊd sˈɪŋ tə hɜː ænd fɹʌmðə ɹˈɪvɚ dˈɪp hɜː kˈuːl ɡɹˈeɪlz ʌv ɹˈeɪdiənt lˈaɪf. ðɪ ˈeɪndʒəlz wʊd bɹˈɪŋ tə hɜː, sˈædli ɐ kwˈɪvɚ, lˈɔːɹəlz ʃiː nˈɛvɚ hæd wˈʌn ɪn ˈɜːθ stɹˈaɪf. ænd ˈɔfən ðeɪd flˈaɪ wɪð hɜːɹ ˈɔːɹ ðə stˈɑːɹ spˈeɪsᵻz sˈaɪlənt baɪ wˈɜːldz wˌɛɹ mˈɔːɹɾəlz ɑːɹ pˈɛnt. jˈeɪ, ˈiːvən wʊd sˈaɪ wɪð hɜː, sˈaɪ wɪð wˈæn fˈeɪsᵻz! wˌɛn ʃiː sˈæt wˈiːpɪŋ ʌv stɹˈeɪndʒ dɪskəntˈɛnt.