text_original: But in the porch and o'er the graves, Glad rings the southward robin's glee, And sparrows fill the autumn air With merry mutiny; While on the graves of drab and gray The red and gold of autumn lie, And wilful Nature decks the sod In gentlest mockery.
text_transcription: BUT IN THE PORCH AND OVER THE GRAVES GLAD RINGS THE SOUTHWARD ROBIN'S GLEE AND SPARROWS FILL THE AUTUMN AIR WITH MERRY MUTINY WHILE ON THE GRAVES OF DRABEN GREY THE RED AND GOLD OF AUTUMN LIE AND WILFUL NATURE DECKS THE SOD IN GENTLEST MOCKERY
phonemes: bˌʌt ɪnðə pˈɔːɹtʃ ænd ˈɔːɹ ðə ɡɹˈeɪvz, ɡlˈæd ɹˈɪŋz ðə sˈaʊθwɚd ɹˈɑːbɪnz ɡlˈiː, ænd spˈæɹoʊz fˈɪl ðɪ ˈɔːɾʌm ˈɛɹ wɪð mˈɛɹi mjˈuːtɪni; wˌaɪl ɔnðə ɡɹˈeɪvz ʌv dɹˈæb ænd ɡɹˈeɪ ðə ɹˈɛd ænd ɡˈoʊld ʌv ˈɔːɾʌm lˈaɪ, ænd wˈɪlfəl nˈeɪtʃɚ dˈɛks ðə sˈɑːd ɪn dʒˈɛntəlɪst mˈɑːkɚɹi.