text_original: Oh, soft the skies of Seskinore, And mild is meadowy Mellaray. But sweet as honey, running o'er, The Golden Shore of Far Away. 184 POEMS OF FANCY.
text_transcription: O SOFT THE SKIES OF SESCHINORE AND MILD IS MEADOWY MELLOW RAY BUT SWEET AS HONEY RUNNING O'ER THE GOLDEN SHORE OF FAR AWAY
phonemes: ˈoʊ, sˈɔft ðə skˈaɪz ʌv sˈɛskɪnˌɔːɹ, ænd mˈaɪld ɪz mˈɛdoʊi mˈɛlɐɹˌeɪ. bˌʌt swˈiːt æz hˈʌni, ɹˈʌnɪŋ ˈɔːɹ, ðə ɡˈoʊldən ʃˈɔːɹ ʌv fˈɑːɹ ɐwˈeɪ. wˈʌnhˈʌndɹɪd ˈeɪɾi fˈɔːɹ pˈoʊᵻmz ʌv fˈænsi.