text_original: * * * * * Seventy long years had flown away, See! Aberdaron weeps; Forth from her Church beside the shore, {23a} A long procession sweeps. See crowds of pilgrims waiting From all Carnarvon round, The hushing of the sea roar, To cross the dangerous sound.
text_transcription: SEVENTY LONG YEARS HAD FLOWN AWAY SEE ABADERUN WEEPS FORTH FROM HER CHURCH BESIDE THE SHORE A LONG PROCESSION SWEEPS SEE CROWDS OF PILGRIMS WAITING FROM ALL CARNAVAN ROUND THE HUSHING OF THE SEA ROAR TO CROSS THE DANGEROUS SOUND
phonemes: ˈæstɚɹˌɪsk ˈæstɚɹˌɪsk ˈæstɚɹˌɪsk sˈɛvənti lˈɔŋ jˈɪɹz hæd flˈoʊn ɐwˈeɪ, sˈiː! ˌæbɚdˈæɹən wˈiːps; fˈɔːɹθ fɹʌm hɜː tʃˈɜːtʃ bᵻsˌaɪd ðə ʃˈɔːɹ, {twˈɛnti θɹˈiː ˈeɪ} ɐ lˈɔŋ pɹəsˈɛʃən swˈiːps. sˈiː kɹˈaʊdz ʌv pˈɪlɡɹɪmz wˈeɪɾɪŋ fɹʌm ˈɔːl kˈɑːɹnɑːɹvən ɹˈaʊnd, ðə hˈʌʃɪŋ ʌvðə sˈiː ɹˈɔːɹ, tə kɹˈɔs ðə dˈeɪndʒɚɹəs sˈaʊnd.