text_original: Nobody thinks: There, there she lay In a room by the Hoe, like the bud of a flower, And listened, just after the bedtime hour, To the stammering chimes that used to play The quaint Old Hundred and Thirteenth tune In Saint Andrew's tower Night, morn, and noon.
text_transcription: NOBODY THINKS THERE THERE SHE LAY IN A ROOM BY THE HOE LIKE THE BUD OF A FLOWER AND LISTENED JUST AFTER THE BEDTIME HOUR TO THE STAMMERING CHIMES THAT USED TO PLAY THE QUAINT OLD HUNDRED AND THIRTEENTH TUNE IN SAINT ANDREW'S TOWER NIGHT MORN AND NOON
phonemes: nˈoʊbɑːdi θˈɪŋks: ðˈɛɹ, ðɛɹ ʃiː lˈeɪ ɪn ɐ ɹˈuːm baɪ ðə hˈoʊ, lˈaɪk ðə bˈʌd əvə flˈaʊɚ, ænd lˈɪsənd, dʒˈʌst ˈæftɚ ðə bˈɛdtaɪm ˈaʊɚ, tə ðə stˈæmɚɹɪŋ tʃˈaɪmz ðæt jˈuːzd tə plˈeɪ ðə kwˈeɪnt ˈoʊld hˈʌndɹɪd ænd θˈɜːtiːnθ tˈuːn ɪn sˈeɪnt ˈændɹuːz tˈaʊɚ nˈaɪt, mˈɔːɹn, ænd nˈuːn.