text_original: 87 THE lady I have vowed to paint Has contour of a rose, No rigid shadow of a saint Upon the wall she throws; Her tints so softly lie Against the air they almost vie With the sea*s outline smooth against the sky.
text_transcription: THE LADY I HAVE VOWED TO PAINT HAS CONTOUR OF A ROSE NO RIGID SHADOW OF A SAINT UPON THE WALL SHE THROWS HER TINTS SO SOFTLY LIE AGAINST THE AIR THEY ALMOST VIE WITH THE SEA'S OUTLINE SMOOTH AGAINST THE SKY
phonemes: ˈeɪɾi sˈɛvən ðə lˈeɪdi aɪ hæv vˈaʊd tə pˈeɪnt hɐz kˈɑːntʊɹ əvɚ ɹˈoʊz, nˈoʊ ɹˈɪdʒɪd ʃˈædoʊ əvə sˈeɪnt əpˌɑːn ðə wˈɔːl ʃiː θɹˈoʊz; hɜː tˈɪnts sˌoʊ sˈɔftli lˈaɪ ɐɡˈɛnst ðɪ ˈɛɹ ðeɪ ˈɔːlmoʊst vˈaɪ wɪððə sˈiː ˈæstɚɹˌɪsk ˈɛs ˈaʊtlaɪn smˈuːð ɐɡˈɛnst ðə skˈaɪ.