text_original: I will not think of these — Blue be the sky and soft the breeze, Earth green beneath the feet, And be the damp mould gently pressed Into my narrow place of rest.
text_transcription: I WILL NOT THINK OF THESE BLUE BE THE SKY AND SOFTER BREEZE EARTH GREEN BENEATH THE FEET AND BE THE DAMP MOULD GENTLY PRESSED INTO MY NARROW PLACE OF REST
phonemes: aɪ wɪl nˌɑːt θˈɪŋk ʌv ðˈiːz — blˈuː biː ðə skˈaɪ ænd sˈɔft ðə bɹˈiːz, ˈɜːθ ɡɹˈiːn bᵻnˌiːθ ðə fˈiːt, ænd biː ðə dˈæmp mˈoʊld dʒˈɛntli pɹˈɛst ˌɪntʊ maɪ nˈæɹoʊ plˈeɪs ʌv ɹˈɛst.