text_original: So we passed in the golden days With the summer down to the sea. They wander still over weary ways, And come not again to me. I am here alone with the night wind's sigh, The fading stars, and a dream gone by, And the Rhone going down to the sea. 1880.
text_transcription: SO WE PASSED IN THE GOLDEN DAYS WITH THE SUMMER DOWN TO THE SEA THEY WANDER STILL OVER WEARY WAYS AND COME NOT AGAIN TO ME I AM HERE ALONE WITH THE NIGHT WIND SIGH THE FADING STARS AND THE DREAM GONE BY AND THE RAIN GOING DOWN TO THE SEA EIGH
phonemes: sˌoʊ wiː pˈæst ɪnðə ɡˈoʊldən dˈeɪz wɪððə sˈʌmɚ dˌaʊn tə ðə sˈiː. ðeɪ wˈɔndɚ stˈɪl ˌoʊvɚ wˈɪɹi wˈeɪz, ænd kˈʌm nˌɑːt ɐɡˈɛn tə mˌiː. aɪɐm hˈɪɹ ɐlˈoʊn wɪððə nˈaɪt wˈɪndz sˈaɪ, ðə fˈeɪdɪŋ stˈɑːɹz, ænd ɐ dɹˈiːm ɡɔn bˈaɪ, ænd ðə ɹˈoʊn ɡˌoʊɪŋ dˌaʊn tə ðə sˈiː. wˈʌn θˈaʊzənd ˈeɪthˈʌndɹɪd ˈeɪɾi.