text_original: I knew not her secret, though she held mine: In that golden hour did we each confess; And her low voice murmured, Yea, I am thine, And the large world rang with my happiness. 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.
text_transcription: I KNEW NOT HER SECRET THOUGH SHE HELD MINE IN THAT GOLDEN HOUR DID WE EACH CONFESS AND HER LOW VOICE MURMURED YEA I AM THINE AND THE LARGE WORLD RANG WITH MY HAPPINESS 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
phonemes: aɪ nˈuː nˌɑːt hɜː sˈiːkɹᵻt, ðˌoʊ ʃiː hˈɛld mˈaɪn: ɪn ðæt ɡˈoʊldən ˈaʊɚ dˈɪd wiː ˈiːtʃ kənfˈɛs; ænd hɜː lˈoʊ vˈɔɪs mˈɜːmɚd, jˈeɪ, aɪɐm ðˈaɪn, ænd ðə lˈɑːɹdʒ wˈɜːld ɹˈæŋ wɪð maɪ hˈæpɪnəs. 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.