text_original: And though the day be white with heat, Their ancient yards are dim and cold; Where now the toad makes its retreat, 'Mid flower pots green caked with mold, And naught but noisome weeds unfold.
text_transcription: AND THOUGH THE DAY BE WHITE WITH HEAT THEIR ANCIENT YARDS ARE DIM AND COLD WHERE NOW THE TOAD MAKES ITS RETREAT MID FLOWER POTS GREEN CAKED WITH MOULD AND NOUGHT BUT NOISOME WEEDS UNFOLD
phonemes: ænd ðˌoʊ ðə dˈeɪ biː wˈaɪt wɪð hˈiːt, ðɛɹ ˈeɪntʃənt jˈɑːɹdz ɑːɹ dˈɪm ænd kˈoʊld; wˌɛɹ nˈaʊ ðə tˈoʊd mˌeɪks ɪts ɹᵻtɹˈiːt, mˈɪd flˈaʊɚ pˈɑːts ɡɹˈiːn kˈeɪkt wɪð mˈoʊld, ænd nˈɔːt bˌʌt nˈɔɪsʌm wˈiːdz ʌnfˈoʊld.