text_original: While storms lie quelled at their rebuke, no more Shall the old ash her shattered foliage shed, The cypress bow her head, The bursting billow whiten on the shore.
text_transcription: WHILE STORMS LIE WELL THAT THEIR REBUKE NO MORE SHALL THE OLD ASH HER SHATTERED FOLIAGE SHED THE CYPRESS BOW HER HEAD THE BURSTING BILLOW WHITEN ON THE SHORE
phonemes: wˌaɪl stˈɔːɹmz lˈaɪ kwˈɛld æt ðɛɹ ɹᵻbjˈuːk, nˈoʊmˌɔːɹ ʃˌæl ðɪ ˈoʊld ˈæʃ hɜː ʃˈæɾɚd fˈoʊlɪɪdʒ ʃˈɛd, ðə sˈaɪpɹəs bˈoʊ hɜː hˈɛd, ðə bˈɜːstɪŋ bˈɪloʊ wˈaɪʔn̩ ɔnðə ʃˈɔːɹ.