text_original: Why, her breast Was white as twin pillows that allure you to rest; Her sloping limbs moved like to melodies, told As she rose from the sea, and she threw back the gold Of her glory of hair, and set face to the shore. . . . I knew her!
text_transcription: WHY HER BREAST WAS WHITE AS TWIN PILLOWS THAT ALLURE YOU TO REST HER SLOPING LIMBS MOVED LIKE TWO MELODIES TOLD AS SHE ROSE FROM THE SEA AND SHE THREW BACK THE GOLD OF HER GLORY OF HAIR AND SET FACE TO THE SHORE I KNEW HER
phonemes: wˈaɪ, hɜː bɹˈɛst wʌz wˈaɪt æz twˈɪn pˈɪloʊz ðæt ɐlˈʊɹ juː tə ɹˈɛst; hɜː slˈoʊpɪŋ lˈɪmz mˈuːvd lˈaɪk tə mˈɛlədiz, tˈoʊld æz ʃiː ɹˈoʊz fɹʌmðə sˈiː, ænd ʃiː θɹˈuː bˈæk ðə ɡˈoʊld ʌv hɜː ɡlˈɔːɹi ʌv hˈɛɹ, ænd sˈɛt fˈeɪs tə ðə ʃˈɔːɹ. . . . aɪ nˈuː hɜː!