text_original: To morrow shall be the blessedest day That ever the all seeing sun espied: Though thou sleep till the morning's earliest ray, Yet then thou must waken to be my bride. Yea, waken, my love, for to morrow we wed: Uplift the lids of thy beautiful eyes. A light at her feet and a light at her head, How fast asleep my Dolores lies! EMMA LAZARUS.
text_transcription: TO MORROW SHALL BE THE BLESSEDEST DAY THAT EVER THE ALL SEEING SUN HAS SPIED THOUGH THOU SLEEP TILL THE MORNING'S EARLIEST RAY YET THEN THOU MUST WAKEN TO BE MY BRIDE YEA WAKEN MY LOVE FOR TO MORROW WE WED UPLIFT THE LIDS OF THY BEAUTIFUL EYES A LIGHT AT HER FEET AND A LIGHT AT HER HEAD HOW FAST ASLEEP MY DOLOROUS LIES END OF POEM
phonemes: tə mˈɑːɹoʊ ʃˌæl biː ðə blˈɛsɛdɪst dˈeɪ ðæt ˈɛvɚ ðɪ ˈɔːl sˈiːɪŋ sˈʌn ɛspˈaɪd: ðˌoʊ ðˈaʊ slˈiːp tˈɪl ðə mˈɔːɹnɪŋz ˈɜːlɪɪst ɹˈeɪ, jˈɛt ðˈɛn ðˈaʊ mˈʌst wˈeɪkən təbi maɪ bɹˈaɪd. jˈeɪ, wˈeɪkən, maɪ lˈʌv, fɔːɹ tə mˈɑːɹoʊ wiː wˈɛd: ʌplˈɪft ðə lˈɪdz ʌv ðˌaɪ bjˈuːɾifəl ˈaɪz. ɐ lˈaɪt æt hɜː fˈiːt ænd ɐ lˈaɪt æt hɜː hˈɛd, hˌaʊ fˈæst ɐslˈiːp maɪ dəlˈɔːɹɪs lˈaɪz! ˈɛmə lˈæzɚɹəs.