text_original: I undid the shutter a week thence, But not until after I'd turned Did I call back his last departure By the upland there discerned. Uncovering the casement long later, I bent to my toil till the gray, When I said to myself, "Ah—what ails me, To forget him all the day!"
text_transcription: I UNDID THE SHUTTER A WEEK THENCE BUT NOT UNTIL AFTER I TURNED DID I CALL BACK HIS LAST DEPARTURE BY THE UPLAND THERE DISCERNED UNCOVERING THE CASEMENT LONG LATER I BENT TO MY TOIL TILL THE GRAY WHEN I SAID TO MYSELF HOW WHAT AILS ME TO FORGET HIM ALL THE DAY
phonemes: aɪ ʌndˈɪd ðə ʃˈʌɾɚɹ ɐ wˈiːk ðˈɛns, bˌʌt nˌɑːt ʌntˈɪl ˈæftɚɹ aɪd tˈɜːnd dˈɪd aɪ kˈɔːl bˈæk hɪz lˈæst dᵻpˈɑːɹtʃɚ baɪ ðɪ ˈʌplənd ðɛɹ dɪsˈɜːnd. ʌŋkˈʌvɚɹɪŋ ðə kˈeɪsmənt lˈɔŋ lˈeɪɾɚ, aɪ bˈɛnt tə maɪ tˈɔɪl tˈɪl ðə ɡɹˈeɪ, wˌɛn aɪ sˈɛd tə maɪsˈɛlf, "ˈɑː—wˌʌt ˈeɪlz mˌiː, tə fɚɡˈɛt hˌɪm ˈɔːl ðə dˈeɪ!"