text_original: "The notes of your organ have thrilled down out of view To the earth clogged wrecks of my edifice many a year, Though stately and shining once—ay, long ere you Had set up crucifix and candle here. "Your priests have trampled the dust of mine without rueing, Despising the joys of man whom I so much loved, Though my springs boil on by your Gothic arcades and pewing, And sculptures crude . . .
text_transcription: THE NOTES OF YOUR ORGAN HAVE THRILLED DOWN OUT OF YOU TO THE EARTH CLOGGED WRECKS OF MY EDIFICE MANY A YEAR THOSE STATELY AND SHINING ONES I LONG ERE YOU HAD SET UP CRUCIFIX AND CANDLE HERE YOUR PRIESTS HAVE TRAMPLED THE DUST OF MINE WITHOUT RUIN DESPISING THE JOYS OF MEN WHOM I SO MUCH LOVED THOUGH MY SPRINGS BOIL ON BY YOUR GOTHIC ARCADES AND PEWING AND SCULPTURE SCREWED
phonemes: "ðə nˈoʊts ʌv jʊɹ ˈɔːɹɡən hæv θɹˈɪld dˌaʊn ˌaʊɾəv vjˈuː tə ðɪ ˈɜːθ klˈɑːɡd ɹˈɛks ʌv maɪ ˈɛdɪfɪs mˈɛni ɐ jˈɪɹ, ðˌoʊ stˈeɪtli ænd ʃˈaɪnɪŋ wˈʌns—ˈaɪ, lˈɔŋ ˈɛɹ juː hæd sˈɛt ˌʌp kɹˈuːsɪfˌɪks ænd kˈændəl hˈɪɹ. "jʊɹ pɹˈiːsts hæv tɹˈæmpəld ðə dˈʌst ʌv mˈaɪn wɪðˌaʊt ɹˈuːɪŋ, dᵻspˈaɪzɪŋ ðə dʒˈɔɪz ʌv mˈæn hˈuːm aɪ sˈoʊ mˌʌtʃ lˈʌvd, ðˌoʊ maɪ spɹˈɪŋz bˈɔɪl ˌɔn baɪ jʊɹ ɡˈɑːθɪk ɑːɹkˈeɪdz ænd pjˈuːɪŋ, ænd skˈʌlptʃɚz kɹˈuːd . . .