text_original: Still it whispered promised pleasure, And bade the lovely scenes at distance hail ! Still would her touch the strain prolong ; And from the rocks, the woods, the vale, She called on Echo still, through all the song ; And wmere her sweetest theme she chose, A soft responsive voice was heard at every close ; And Hope, enchanted, smiled, and waved her golden hair. THE ARTS.
text_transcription: STILL IT WHISPERED PROMISED PLEASURE AND BADE THE LOVELY SCENES AT DISTANCE HAIL STILL WOULD HER TOUCH THE STRAIN PROLONG AND FROM THE ROCKS THE WOODS THE VALE SHE CALLED ON ECHO STILL TO ALL THE SONG AND WHERE HER SWEETEST THEME SHE CHOSE A SOFT RESPONSIVE VOICE WAS HEARD AT EVERY CLOSE AND HOPE ENCHANTED SMILED AND WAVED HER GOLDEN HAIR
phonemes: stˈɪl ɪt wˈɪspɚd pɹˈɑːmɪst plˈɛʒɚ, ænd bˈeɪd ðə lˈʌvli sˈiːnz æt dˈɪstəns hˈeɪl ! stˈɪl wʊd hɜː tˈʌtʃ ðə stɹˈeɪn pɹəlˈɔŋ ; ænd fɹʌmðə ɹˈɑːks, ðə wˈʊdz, ðə vˈeɪl, ʃiː kˈɔːld ˌɔn ˈɛkoʊ stˈɪl, θɹuː ˈɔːl ðə sˈɔŋ ; ænd dˈʌbəljˌuːmˈɪɹ hɜː swˈiːɾɪst θˈiːm ʃiː tʃˈoʊz, ɐ sˈɔft ɹᵻspˈɑːnsɪv vˈɔɪs wʌz hˈɜːd æɾ ˈɛvɹi klˈoʊs ; ænd hˈoʊp, ɛntʃˈæntᵻd, smˈaɪld, ænd wˈeɪvd hɜː ɡˈoʊldən hˈɛɹ. ðɪ ˈɑːɹts.