text_original: He thinks no more of his home afar, Where his sire and sister wait. He heeds no longer how star after star Looks forth on the night as the hour grows late. He heeds not the snow wreaths, lifted and cast From a thousand boughs, by the rising blast.
text_transcription: HE THINKS NO MORE OF HIS HOME AFAR WHERE HIS SIRE AND SISTER WAIT HE HEEDS NO LONGER HOW STAR AFTER STAR LOOKS FORTH ON THE NIGHT AS THE HOUR GROWS LATE HE HEEDS NOT THE SNOW WREATHS LIFTED AND CAST FROM THE THOUSAND BOUGHS BY THE RISING BLAST
phonemes: hiː θˈɪŋks nˈoʊmˌɔːɹ ʌv hɪz hˈoʊm ɐfˈɑːɹ, wˌɛɹ hɪz sˈaɪɚ ænd sˈɪstɚ wˈeɪt. hiː hˈiːdz nˌoʊ lˈɑːŋɡɚ hˌaʊ stˈɑːɹ ˈæftɚ stˈɑːɹ lˈʊks fˈɔːɹθ ɔnðə nˈaɪt æz ðɪ ˈaʊɚ ɡɹˈoʊz lˈeɪt. hiː hˈiːdz nˌɑːt ðə snˈoʊ ɹˈiːθs, lˈɪftᵻd ænd kˈæst fɹʌm ɐ θˈaʊzənd bˈaʊz, baɪ ðə ɹˈaɪzɪŋ blˈæst.