text_original: Ah  the Wind has died from the Fear of her smile   And I creep quite still   On over the hill, To where she stands 'mid the scented yew And where I now am standing too, And she sees me all the while.
text_transcription: AH THE WIND HAS DIED FROM THE FEAR OF HER SMILE AND I CREEP QUITE STILL ON OVER THE HILL TO WHERE SHE STANDS MID THE SCENTED EW AND WHERE I NOW AM STANDING TOO AND SHE SEES ME ALL THE WHILE
phonemes: ˈɑː ðə wˈɪnd hɐz dˈaɪd fɹʌmðə fˈɪɹ ʌv hɜː smˈaɪl ænd aɪ kɹˈiːp kwˈaɪt stˈɪl ˌɔn ˌoʊvɚ ðə hˈɪl, tə wˌɛɹ ʃiː stˈændz mˈɪd ðə sˈɛntᵻd jˈuː ænd wˌɛɹ aɪ nˈaʊ æm stˈændɪŋ tˈuː, ænd ʃiː sˈiːz mˌiː ˈɔːl ðə wˈaɪl.