text_original: If aught befell it. Love was by And rolled it off again; So, if there ever was a sigh, T was not a sigh of pain. I may not call thee back; but thou Returnest when the hand Of gentle Sleep waves o'er my brow His poppy crested wand; Then smiling eyes bend over mine, Then lips once pressed invite; But sleep hath given a silent sign.
text_transcription: IF AUGHT BEFELL IT LOVE WAS BY AND ROLLED IT OFF AGAIN SO IF THERE EVER WAS A SIGH TWAS NOT A SIGH OF PAIN I MAY NOT CALL THEE BACK BUT THOU RETURNEST WHEN THE HAND OF GENTLE SLEEP WAVES OVER MY BROW HIS POPPY CREST DID WAND THEN SMILING EYES BEND OVER MINE THEN LIPS ONCE PREST INVITE BUT SLEEP HATH GIVEN A SILENT SIGN
phonemes: ɪf ˈɔːt bᵻfˈɛl ɪt. lˈʌv wʌz baɪ ænd ɹˈoʊld ɪɾ ˈɔf ɐɡˈɛn; sˈoʊ, ɪf ðɛɹ ˈɛvɚ wʌzɐ sˈaɪ, tˈiː wʌz nˌɑːɾə sˈaɪ ʌv pˈeɪn. aɪ mˈeɪ nˌɑːt kˈɔːl ðiː bˈæk; bˌʌt ðˈaʊ ɹᵻtˈɜːnɪst wɛn ðə hˈænd ʌv dʒˈɛntəl slˈiːp wˈeɪvz ˈɔːɹ maɪ bɹˈaʊ hɪz pˈɑːpi kɹˈɛstᵻd wˈɔnd; ðˈɛn smˈaɪlɪŋ ˈaɪz bˈɛnd ˌoʊvɚ mˈaɪn, ðˈɛn lˈɪps wˈʌns pɹˈɛst ɪnvˈaɪt; bˌʌt slˈiːp hæθ ɡˈɪvən ɐ sˈaɪlənt sˈaɪn.