text_original: "] The dews of summer night did fall; The moon, sweet regent of the sky, Silvered the walls of Cumnor Hall, And many an oak that grew thereby. Now naught was heard beneath the skies, The sounds of busy life were still, Save an unhappy lady's sighs, That issued from that lonely pile.
text_transcription: THE DEWS OF SUMMER NIGHT DID FALL THE MOON SWEET REGION OF THE SKY SILVERED THE WALLS OF COMENA HALL AND MANY AN OAK THAT GREW THEREBY NOW NAUGHT WAS HEARD BENEATH THE SKIES THE SOUNDS OF BUSY LIFE WERE STILL SAVE AN UNHAPPY LADY'S SIGHS THAT ISSUED FROM THAT LONELY PILE
phonemes: "] ðə dˈuːz ʌv sˈʌmɚ nˈaɪt dˈɪd fˈɔːl; ðə mˈuːn, swˈiːt ɹˈiːdʒənt ʌvðə skˈaɪ, sˈɪlvɚd ðə wˈɔːlz ʌv kˈʌmnɚ hˈɔːl, ænd mˈɛni ɐn ˈoʊk ðæt ɡɹˈuː ðɛɹbˈaɪ. nˈaʊ nˈɔːt wʌz hˈɜːd bᵻnˌiːθ ðə skˈaɪz, ðə sˈaʊndz ʌv bˈɪzi lˈaɪf wɜː stˈɪl, sˈeɪv ɐn ʌnhˈæpi lˈeɪdiz sˈaɪz, ðæt ˈɪʃuːd fɹʌm ðæt lˈoʊnli pˈaɪl.