text_original: _ THE TUNE OF SEVEN TOWERS No one goes there now: For what is left to fetch away From the desolate battlements all arow, And the lead roof heavy and grey? _Therefore, said fair Yoland of the flowers, This is the tune of Seven Towers.
text_transcription: THE TUNE OF SEVEN TOWERS NO ONE GOES THERE NOW FOR WHAT IS LEFT TO FETCH AWAY FROM THE DESOLATE BATTLEMENTS ALL A ROW AND THE LEAD ROOF HEAVY AND GRAY THEREFORE SAID FAIR JOLRAND OF THE FLOWERS THIS IS THE TUNE OF SEVEN TOWERS
phonemes: ðə tˈuːn ʌv sˈɛvən tˈaʊɚz nˈoʊwˈʌn ɡoʊz ðɛɹ nˈaʊ: fɔːɹ wʌt ɪz lˈɛft tə fˈɛtʃ ɐwˈeɪ fɹʌmðə dˈɛsələt bˈæɾəlmənts ˈɔːl ˈæɹoʊ, ænd ðə lˈiːd ɹˈuːf hˈɛvi ænd ɡɹˈeɪ? ðˈɛɹfɔːɹ, sˈɛd fˈɛɹ jˈoʊlənd ʌvðə flˈaʊɚz, ðɪs ɪz ðə tˈuːn ʌv sˈɛvən tˈaʊɚz.