text_original: Linger not long. How shall I watch thy coming, As evening shadows stretch o'er moor and dell; When the wild bee hath ceased her busy humming, And silence hangs on all things like a spell!
text_transcription: LINGER NOT LONG HOW SHALL I WATCH THY COMING AS EVENING SHADOWS STRETCH OVER MORN DELL WHEN THE WILD BEE HAS CEASED HER BUSY HUMMING AND SILENCE HANGS ON ALL THINGS LIKE A SPELL
phonemes: lˈɪŋɡɚ nˌɑːt lˈɔŋ. hˌaʊ ʃˌæl aɪ wˈɑːtʃ ðˌaɪ kˈʌmɪŋ, æz ˈiːvnɪŋ ʃˈædoʊz stɹˈɛtʃ ˈɔːɹ mˈʊɹ ænd dˈɛl; wˌɛn ðə wˈaɪld bˈiː hæθ sˈiːst hɜː bˈɪzi hˈʌmɪŋ, ænd sˈaɪləns hˈæŋz ˌɔn ˈɔːl θˈɪŋz lˈaɪk ɐ spˈɛl!