text_original: Now down the road, that shambles by, A window, shining like an eye Through climbing rose and gourd, Shows where Toil sups and these things lie, His heart and hoard.
text_transcription: NOW DOWN THE ROAD THAT SHAMBLES BY A WINDOW SHINING LIKE AN EYE THROUGH CLIMBING ROSE AND GOOD SHOWS WHERE TOIL SUBS AND THESE THINGS LIE HIS HEART AND HOARD
phonemes: nˈaʊ dˌaʊn ðə ɹˈoʊd, ðæt ʃˈæmbəlz bˈaɪ, ɐ wˈɪndoʊ, ʃˈaɪnɪŋ lˈaɪk ɐn ˈaɪ θɹuː klˈaɪmɪŋ ɹˈoʊz ænd ɡˈʊɹd, ʃˈoʊz wˌɛɹ tˈɔɪl sˈʌps ænd ðiːz θˈɪŋz lˈaɪ, hɪz hˈɑːɹt ænd hˈɔːɹd.