text_original: Across the window pane It pours and pours; Aud swift and wide, With a muddy tide, Like a river down the gutter roars The rain, the welcome rain ! The sick man from his chamber looks At the twisted brooks; He can feel the cool Breath of each little pool ; THE SEASONS. 115 His fevered brain Grows calm again, And he breathes a blessing on the rain.
text_transcription: ACROSS THE WINDOW PANE IT POURS AND POURS AND SWIFT AND WIDE WITH A MUDDY TIDE LIKE A RIVER DOWN THE GUTTER ROARS THE RAIN THE WELCOME RAIN THE SICK MAN FROM HIS CHAMBER LOOKS AT THE TWISTED BROOKS HE CAN FEEL THE COOL BREATH OF EACH LITTLE POOL HIS FEVERED BRAIN GROWS CALM AGAIN AND HE BREATHES A BLESSING ON THE RAIN
phonemes: əkɹˌɑːs ðə wˈɪndoʊ pˈeɪn ɪt pˈɔːɹz ænd pˈɔːɹz; ˈɔːd swˈɪft ænd wˈaɪd, wɪð ɐ mˈʌdi tˈaɪd, lˈaɪk ɐ ɹˈɪvɚ dˌaʊn ðə ɡˈʌɾɚ ɹˈɔːɹz ðə ɹˈeɪn, ðə wˈɛlkʌm ɹˈeɪn ! ðə sˈɪk mˈæn fɹʌm hɪz tʃˈeɪmbɚ lˈʊks æt ðə twˈɪstᵻd bɹˈʊks; hiː kæn fˈiːl ðə kˈuːl bɹˈɛθ ʌv ˈiːtʃ lˈɪɾəl pˈuːl ; ðə sˈiːzənz. wˈʌnhˈʌndɹɪd fˈɪftiːn hɪz fˈiːvɚd bɹˈeɪn ɡɹˈoʊz kˈɑːm ɐɡˈɛn, ænd hiː bɹˈiːðz ɐ blˈɛsɪŋ ɔnðə ɹˈeɪn.