text_original: My heart strings round thee cling, Close as thy bark, old friend ! ABOUT CHILDREN. Here shall the wild bird sing, Aud still thy branches beud. Old tree! the storm still brave! And, woodman, leave the spot; While I 've a hand to save. Thy axe shall hurt it not.
text_transcription: MY HEART STRINGS ROUND THEE CLING CLOSE AS THY BARK OLD FRIEND HERE SHALL THE WILD BIRD SING AND STILL THY BRANCH IS BEND O TREE THE STORM STILL BRAVE AND WOODMAN LEAVE THE SPOT WHILE I'VE A HAND TO SAVE THY AX SHALL HURT IT NOT
phonemes: maɪ hˈɑːɹt stɹˈɪŋz ɹˈaʊnd ðiː klˈɪŋ, klˈoʊs æz ðˌaɪ bˈɑːɹk, ˈoʊld fɹˈɛnd ! ɐbˌaʊt tʃˈɪldɹən. hˈɪɹ ʃˌæl ðə wˈaɪld bˈɜːd sˈɪŋ, ˈɔːd stˈɪl ðˌaɪ bɹˈæntʃᵻz bjˈuːd. ˈoʊld tɹˈiː! ðə stˈɔːɹm stˈɪl bɹˈeɪv! ænd, wˈʊdmən, lˈiːv ðə spˈɑːt; wˌaɪl aɪ vˈiː ɐ hˈænd tə sˈeɪv. ðˌaɪ ˈæks ʃˌæl hˈɜːt ɪt nˈɑːt.