text_original: Thunder heads have hovered o'er   Storms my path have chilled and shaded; Of the bloom my gay youth bore, Some has fruited  more has faded." Quickly, and amid her sighs, Through the grass her baby wrestled, Smiled on her its father's eyes, And unto her bosom nestled.
text_transcription: THUNDERHEADS HAVE HOVERED O'ER STORMS FROM PATH HAVE CHILLED AND SHADED OF THE BLOOM I GAY YOUTH BORE SOME IS FRUITED MORE IS FATE QUICKLY AND AMID HER SIGHS THROUGH THE GRASS HER BABY RUSTLED SMILED ON HER ITS FATHER'S EYES AND ON TO HER BOSOM NESTLED
phonemes: θˈʌndɚ hˈɛdz hæv hˈʌvɚd ˈɔːɹ stˈɔːɹmz maɪ pˈæθ hæv tʃˈɪld ænd ʃˈeɪdᵻd; ʌvðə blˈuːm maɪ ɡˈeɪ jˈuːθ bˈɔːɹ, sˌʌm hɐz fɹˈuːɾᵻd mˈɔːɹ hɐz fˈeɪdᵻd." kwˈɪkli, ænd ɐmˈɪd hɜː sˈaɪz, θɹuː ðə ɡɹˈæs hɜː bˈeɪbi ɹˈɛsəld, smˈaɪld ˌɔn hɜːɹ ɪts fˈɑːðɚz ˈaɪz, ænd ˌʌntʊ hɜː bˈʊzəm nˈɛsəld.