text_original: Close to Heaven's gate my own Antonio sits Waiting, and, spite of all the Frati say, I know I shall not stand long at that gate, Or knock and be refused an entrance there, For he will start up when lie hears my voice, The saints will smile, and he will open quick. Only a night to part me from that joy.
text_transcription: CLOSE TO HEAVEN'S GATE MY OWN ANTONIO SITS WAITING AND SPITE OF ALL THE FRATI SAY I KNOW I SHALL NOT STAND LONG AT THAT GATE OR KNOCK AND BE REFUSED AN ENTRANCE THERE FOR HE WILL START UP WHEN HE HEARS MY VOICE THE SAINTS WILL SMILE AND HE WILL OPEN QUICK ONLY A NIGHT TO PART ME FROM THAT JOY
phonemes: klˈoʊs tə hˈɛvənz ɡˈeɪt maɪ ˈoʊn æntˈoʊnɪˌoʊ sˈɪts wˈeɪɾɪŋ, ænd, spˈaɪt ʌv ˈɔːl ðə fɹˈæɾi sˈeɪ, aɪ nˈoʊ aɪʃˌɐl nˌɑːt stˈænd lˈɔŋ æt ðæt ɡˈeɪt, ɔːɹ nˈɑːk ænd biː ɹᵻfjˈuːzd ɐn ˈɛntɹəns ðˈɛɹ, fɔːɹ hiː wɪl stˈɑːɹt ˌʌp wɛn lˈaɪ hˈɪɹz maɪ vˈɔɪs, ðə sˈeɪnts wɪl smˈaɪl, ænd hiː wɪl ˈoʊpən kwˈɪk. ˈoʊnli ɐ nˈaɪt tə pˈɑːɹt mˌiː fɹʌm ðæt dʒˈɔɪ.