text_original: At the silence of twilight's contemplative hour, I have mused in a sorrowful mood, On the wind shaken weeds that embosom the bower, Where the home of my forefathers stood.
text_transcription: AT THE SILENCE OF TWILIGHT'S CONTEMPLATIVE HOUR I HAVE MUSED IN A SORROWFUL MOOD ON THE WIND SHAKEN WEEDS THAT EMBOSOM THE BOWER WHERE THE HOME OF MY FOREFATHERS STOOD
phonemes: æt ðə sˈaɪləns ʌv twˈaɪlaɪts kəntˈəmplətˌɪv ˈaʊɚ, aɪ hæv mjˈuːzd ɪn ɐ sˈɑːɹoʊfəl mˈuːd, ɔnðə wˈɪnd ʃˈeɪkən wˈiːdz ðæt ɛmbˈɑːsəm ðə bˈaʊɚ, wˌɛɹ ðə hˈoʊm ʌv maɪ fˈɔːɹfɑːðɚz stˈʊd.