text_original: Bright shines the sun, the gentle breeze In soften'd murmurs blows, And softly through the verdant mead, The little streamlet flows. Close by yon fragrant violet bank, Beneath the spreading thorn, His mother's stool and cushion'd chair Are by young Edward borne.
text_transcription: BRIGHT SHINES THE SUN THE GENTLE BREEZE IN SOFTENED MURMURS BLOWS AND SOFTLY THROUGH THE VERDANT MEAT THE LITTLE STREAMLET FLOWS CLOSE BY YON FRAGRANT VIOLET BANK BENEATH THE SPREADING THORN HIS MOTHER'S STOOL AND CUSHIONED CHAIR ARE BY YOUNG EDWARD BORN
phonemes: bɹˈaɪt ʃˈaɪnz ðə sˈʌn, ðə dʒˈɛntəl bɹˈiːz ɪn sˈɔfənd mˈɜːmɚz blˈoʊz, ænd sˈɔftli θɹuː ðə vˈɜːdənt mˈiːd, ðə lˈɪɾəl stɹˈiːmlɪt flˈoʊz. klˈoʊs baɪ jˈɑːn fɹˈeɪɡɹənt vˈaɪəlɪt bˈæŋk, bᵻnˌiːθ ðə spɹˈɛdɪŋ θˈɔːɹn, hɪz mˈʌðɚz stˈuːl ænd kˈʊʃənd tʃˈɛɹ ɑːɹ baɪ jˈʌŋ ˈɛdwɚd bˈɔːɹn.