text_original: Sweetly his pale arms folded .My neck in a meek embrace, As the light of immortal beauty Silently covered his face; And when the arrows of sunset Lodged in the tree tops bright, lie fell, in his saint like beauty, Asleep by tiie gates of light. Therefore, of all the pictures That hang on Memory's wall, The one of the dim old forest Seemeth the best of all.
text_transcription: SWEETLY HIS PALE ARMS FOLDED MY NECK IN A MEEK EMBRACE AS THE LIGHT OF IMMORTAL BEAUTY SILENTLY COVERED HIS FACE AND WHEN THE ARROWS OF SUNSET LODGED IN THE TREE TOPS BRIGHT HE FELL IN HIS SAINT LIKE BEAUTY ASLEEP BY THE GATES OF LIGHT THEREFORE OF ALL THE PICTURES THAT HANG ON MEMORY'S WALL THE ONE OF THE DIM OLD FOREST SEEMETH THE BEST OF ALL
phonemes: swˈiːtli hɪz pˈeɪl ˈɑːɹmz fˈoʊldᵻd .maɪ nˈɛk ɪn ɐ mˈiːk ɛmbɹˈeɪs, æz ðə lˈaɪt ʌv ɪmˈɔːɹɾəl bjˈuːɾi sˈaɪləntli kˈʌvɚd hɪz fˈeɪs; ænd wɛn ðɪ ˈæɹoʊz ʌv sˈʌnsɛt lˈɑːdʒd ɪnðə tɹˈiː tˈɑːps bɹˈaɪt, lˈaɪ fˈɛl, ɪn hɪz sˈeɪnt lˈaɪk bjˈuːɾi, ɐslˈiːp baɪ tˈɪi ɡˈeɪts ʌv lˈaɪt. ðˈɛɹfɔːɹ, ʌv ˈɔːl ðə pˈɪktʃɚz ðæt hˈæŋ ˌɔn mˈɛmɚɹiz wˈɔːl, ðə wˈʌn ʌvðə dˈɪm ˈoʊld fˈɔːɹɪst sˈiːməθ ðə bˈɛst ʌv ˈɔːl.