text_original: And the owl hath a bride, who is fond and bold, And loveth the wood's deep gloom; And, with eyes like the shine of the moonstone cold, She awaiteth her ghastly groom; Not a feather she moves, not a carol she sings, As she waits in her tree so still ; But when her heart heareth his flapping wings, She hoots out her welcome shrill
text_transcription: AND THE OWL HATH A BRIDE WHO IS FOND AND BOLD AND LOVETH THE WOOD'S DEEP GLOOM AND WITH EYES LIKE THE SHINE OF THE MOONSTONE COLD SHE AWAITETH HER GHASTLY GROOM NOT A FEATHER SHE MOVES NOT A CAROL SHE SINGS AS SHE WAITS IN HER TREE SO STILL BUT WHEN HER HEART HEARETH HIS FLAPPING WINGS SHE HOOTS OUT HER WELCOME SHRILL
phonemes: ænd ðɪ ˈaʊl hæθ ɐ bɹˈaɪd, hˌuː ɪz fˈɑːnd ænd bˈoʊld, ænd lˈʌvəθ ðə wˈʊdz dˈiːp ɡlˈuːm; ænd, wɪð ˈaɪz lˈaɪk ðə ʃˈaɪn ʌvðə mˈuːnstoʊn kˈoʊld, ʃiː ɐwˈeɪɾəθ hɜː ɡˈæstli ɡɹˈuːm; nˌɑːɾə fˈɛðɚ ʃiː mˈuːvz, nˌɑːɾə kˈæɹəl ʃiː sˈɪŋz, æz ʃiː wˈeɪts ɪn hɜː tɹˈiː sˌoʊ stˈɪl ; bˌʌt wɛn hɜː hˈɑːɹt hˈɪɹəθ hɪz flˈæpɪŋ wˈɪŋz, ʃiː hˈuːts ˈaʊt hɜː wˈɛlkʌm ʃɹˈɪl