text_original: My morning walks I now could bear to lose, And blessed the shower that gave me not to choose. In fact, I felt a languor stealing on; The active arm, the agile hand, were gone; Small daily actions into habits grew, And new dislike to forms and fashions new. I loved my trees in order to dispose; I numbered peaches, looked how stocks arose; Told the same story oft,  in short, began to prose.
text_transcription: MY MORNING WALKS I NOW COULD BEAR TO LOSE AND BLESS THE SHOWER THAT GAVE ME NOT TO CHOOSE IN FACT I FELT THE LANGUOR STEALING ON THE ACTIVE ARM THE AGILE HAND WERE GONE SMALL DAILY ACTIONS INTO HABITS GREW AND NEW DISLIKE TO FORMS AND FASHIONS NEW I LOVED MY TREES IN ORDER TO DISPOSE I NUMBERED PEACHES LOOKED HOW STALKS AROSE TOLD THE SAME STORY OFT IN SHORT BEGAN TO PROSE
phonemes: maɪ mˈɔːɹnɪŋ wˈɔːks aɪ nˈaʊ kʊd bˈɛɹ tə lˈuːz, ænd blˈɛst ðə ʃˈaʊɚ ðæt ɡˈeɪv mˌiː nˌɑːt tə tʃˈuːz. ɪn fˈækt, aɪ fˈɛlt ɐ lˈæŋɡjuːɚ stˈiːlɪŋ ˈɔn; ðɪ ˈæktɪv ˈɑːɹm, ðɪ ˈædʒəl hˈænd, wɜː ɡˈɔn; smˈɔːl dˈeɪli ˈækʃənz ˌɪntʊ hˈæbɪts ɡɹˈuː, ænd nˈuː dɪslˈaɪk tə fˈɔːɹmz ænd fˈæʃənz nˈuː. aɪ lˈʌvd maɪ tɹˈiːz ɪn ˈɔːɹdɚ tə dɪspˈoʊz; aɪ nˈʌmbɚd pˈiːtʃᵻz, lˈʊkt hˌaʊ stˈɑːks ɚɹˈoʊz; tˈoʊld ðə sˈeɪm stˈɔːɹi ˈɔft,  ɪn ʃˈɔːɹt, bɪɡˈæn tə pɹˈoʊz.