text_original: thus leave Thee, native soil! these happy walks and shades, Fit haunt of gods; where I had hope to spend, Quiet, though sad, the respite of that day That must be mortal to us both?
text_transcription: THUS LEAVE THEE NATIVE SOIL THESE HAPPY WALKS AND SHADES FIT HAUNT OF GODS WHERE I HAD HOPED TO SPEND QUIET THOUGH SAD THE RESPITE OF THAT DAY THAT MUST BE MORTAL TO US BOTH
phonemes: ðˈʌs lˈiːv ðˈiː, nˈeɪɾɪv sˈɔɪl! ðiːz hˈæpi wˈɔːks ænd ʃˈeɪdz, fˈɪt hˈɔːnt ʌv ɡˈɑːdz; wˌɛɹ aɪ hæd hˈoʊp tə spˈɛnd, kwˈaɪət, ðˌoʊ sˈæd, ðə ɹˈɛspɪt ʌv ðæt dˈeɪ ðæt mˈʌst biː mˈɔːɹɾəl tʊ ˌʌs bˈoʊθ?