text_original: 'Fair virgin, weep not! The spirits of the air gather round you; and form a band so sacred, that the malignant demons hover at a distance, hopeless of approach. Your guardian angel presides over this grove. Here, Mildew, Mischief, and Mischance, cannot harm you.
text_transcription: FAIR VIRGIN WEEP NOT THE SPIRITS OF THE AIR GATHER ROUND YOU AND FORM A BAND SO SACRED THAT THE MALIGNANT DEMONS HOVER AT A DISTANCE HOPELESS OF APPROACH YOUR GUARDIAN ANGEL PRESIDES OVER THIS GROVE HERE MILDEW MISCHIEF AND MISCHANCE CANNOT HARM YOU
phonemes: fˈɛɹ vˈɜːdʒɪn, wˈiːp nˈɑːt! ðə spˈɪɹɪts ʌvðɪ ˈɛɹ ɡˈæðɚ ɹˈaʊnd juː; ænd fˈɔːɹm ɐ bˈænd sˌoʊ sˈeɪkɹɪd, ðætðə məlˈɪɡnənt dˈiːmənz hˈʌvɚɹ æɾə dˈɪstəns, hˈoʊpləs ʌv ɐpɹˈoʊtʃ. jʊɹ ɡˈɑːɹdiən ˈeɪndʒəl pɹɪsˈaɪdz ˌoʊvɚ ðɪs ɡɹˈoʊv. hˈɪɹ, mˈɪldjuː, mˈɪstʃɪf, ænd mɪstʃˈæns, kænˈɑːt hˈɑːɹm juː.