text_original: The spell has passed. What spendthrifts we, Of simple, household certainty ! What golden grain we trample low  Searching for flowers that never grow! Why, home is real, and love is real ; Nor false our honest high ideal Life,— it is bounding, warm, and strong,— And all my heart resounds with snug.
text_transcription: THE SPELL HAS PASSED WHAT SPENDTHRIFTS WE OF SIMPLE HOUSEHOLD CERTAINTY WHAT GOLDEN GRAIN WE TRAMPLE LOW SEARCHING FOR FLOWERS THAT NEVER GROW WHY HOME IS REAL AND LOVE IS REAL NOR FAULTS OUR HONEST HIGH IDEAL LIFE IT IS BOUNDING WARM AND STRONG AND ALL MY HEART RESOUNDS WITH SONG
phonemes: ðə spˈɛl hɐz pˈæst. wˌʌt spˈɛndθɹɪfts wiː, ʌv sˈɪmpəl, hˈaʊshoʊld sˈɜːtənti ! wˌʌt ɡˈoʊldən ɡɹˈeɪn wiː tɹˈæmpəl lˈoʊ sˈɜːtʃɪŋ fɔːɹ flˈaʊɚz ðæt nˈɛvɚ ɡɹˈoʊ! wˈaɪ, hˈoʊm ɪz ɹˈiːəl, ænd lˈʌv ɪz ɹˈiːəl ; nˈɔːɹ fˈɔls ˌaʊɚɹ ˈɑːnɪst hˈaɪ aɪdˈiəl lˈaɪf,— ɪɾ ɪz bˈaʊndɪŋ, wˈɔːɹm, ænd stɹˈɔŋ,— ænd ˈɔːl maɪ hˈɑːɹt ɹᵻzˈaʊndz wɪð snˈʌɡ.