text_original: Only the billow slow licking his lips, Like a dog that lay crouching there watching for me; Growling and showing white teeth all the night, Reaching his neck and as ready to bite   Only the waves with their salt flood tears Fawning white stones of a thousand years.
text_transcription: ONLY THE BILLOW SLOW LICKING HIS LIPS LIKE A DOG THAT LAY CROUCHING THERE WATCHING FOR ME GROWLING AND SHOWING WHITE TEETH ALL THE NIGHT REACHING HIS NECK AND AS READY TO BITE ONLY THE WAVES WITH THEIR SALT FLOOD TEARS FAWNING WHITE STONES OF A THOUSAND YEARS
phonemes: ˈoʊnli ðə bˈɪloʊ slˈoʊ lˈɪkɪŋ hɪz lˈɪps, lˈaɪk ɐ dˈɑːɡ ðæt lˈeɪ kɹˈaʊtʃɪŋ ðɛɹ wˈɑːtʃɪŋ fɔːɹ mˌiː; ɡɹˈaʊlɪŋ ænd ʃˈoʊɪŋ wˈaɪt tˈiːθ ˈɔːl ðə nˈaɪt, ɹˈiːtʃɪŋ hɪz nˈɛk ænd æz ɹˈɛdi tə bˈaɪt ˈoʊnli ðə wˈeɪvz wɪð ðɛɹ sˈɔlt flˈʌd tˈɪɹz fˈɔːnɪŋ wˈaɪt stˈoʊnz əvə θˈaʊzənd jˈɪɹz.