text_original: We are almost there  our last walk on this height   I must bid you good bye at that cross on the mountain. See the sun glowing red, and the pulsating light Fill the valley, and rise like the flood in a fountain!
text_transcription: WE ARE ALMOST THERE OUR LAST WALK ON THIS HEIGHT I MUST BID YOU GOOD BY AT THAT CROSS ON THE MOUNTAIN SEE THE SUN GLOWING RED AND THE PULSATING LIGHT FILL THE VALLEY AND RISE LIKE THE FLOOD IN A FOUNTAIN
phonemes: wiː ɑːɹ ˈɔːlmoʊst ðɛɹ ˌaʊɚ lˈæst wˈɔːk ˌɔn ðɪs hˈaɪt aɪ mˈʌst bˈɪd juː ɡˈʊd bˈaɪ æt ðæt kɹˈɔs ɔnðə mˈaʊntɪn. sˈiː ðə sˈʌn ɡlˈoʊɪŋ ɹˈɛd, ænd ðə pˈʌlseɪɾɪŋ lˈaɪt fˈɪl ðə vˈæli, ænd ɹˈaɪz lˈaɪk ðə flˈʌd ɪn ɐ fˈaʊntɪn!