text_original: And hearest thou not my voice that speaks? And feelest thou not my hot tears flow As I kiss thine eyes and thy lips and thy cheeks? Do they not warm thee, my bride of snow? Thou knowest no grief, though thy love may weep. A phantom smile, with a faint, wan beam, Is fixed on thy features sealed in sleep: Oh tell me the secret bliss of thy dream.
text_transcription: AND HEAREST THOU NOT MY VOICE THAT SPEAKS AND FEELEST THOU NOT MY HOT TEARS FLOW AS I KISS THINE EYES AND THY LIPS AND THY CHEEKS DO THEY NOT WARM THEE MY BRIDE OF SNOW THOU KNOWEST NO GRIEF THOUGH THY LOVE MAY WEEP A PHANTOM SMILE WITH A FAINT WORN BEAM IS FIXED ON THY FEATURES SEALED IN SLEEP O TELL ME THE SECRET BLISS OF THY DREAM
phonemes: ænd hˈɪɹɪst ðˈaʊ nˌɑːt maɪ vˈɔɪs ðæt spˈiːks? ænd fˈiːlɪst ðˈaʊ nˌɑːt maɪ hˈɑːt tˈɪɹz flˈoʊ æz aɪ kˈɪs ðaɪn ˈaɪz ænd ðˌaɪ lˈɪps ænd ðˌaɪ tʃˈiːks? dˈuː ðeɪ nˌɑːt wˈɔːɹm ðˈiː, maɪ bɹˈaɪd ʌv snˈoʊ? ðˈaʊ nˈoʊɪst nˈoʊ ɡɹˈiːf, ðˌoʊ ðˌaɪ lˈʌv mˈeɪ wˈiːp. ɐ fˈæntəm smˈaɪl, wɪð ɐ fˈeɪnt, wˈæn bˈiːm, ɪz fˈɪkst ˌɔn ðˌaɪ fˈiːtʃɚz sˈiːld ɪn slˈiːp: ˈoʊ tˈɛl mˌiː ðə sˈiːkɹᵻt blˈɪs ʌv ðˌaɪ dɹˈiːm.