text_original: She gleamed In the splendor of sunset and sensuous sea; Yet I saw but my bride, my affinity, While the doves hurried home to the dome of Saint Mark And the brass horses plunged their high manes in the dark, VI. Was it well with my love?
text_transcription: SHE GLEAMED IN THE SPLENDOUR OF SUNSET AND SENSUOUS SEA YET I SAW BUT MY BRIDE MY AFFINITY WHILST THE DOVES HURRIED HOME TO THE DOME OF SAINT MARK AND THE BRASS HORSES PLUNGED THEIR HIGH MANES IN THE DARK SIX WAS IT WELL WITH MY LOVE
phonemes: ʃiː ɡlˈiːmd ɪnðə splˈɛndɚɹ ʌv sˈʌnsɛt ænd sˈɛnsjuːəs sˈiː; jˈɛt aɪ sˈɔː bˌʌt maɪ bɹˈaɪd, maɪ ɐfˈɪnᵻɾi, wˌaɪl ðə dˈʌvz hˈɜːɹid hˈoʊm tə ðə dˈoʊm ʌv sˈeɪnt mˈɑːɹk ænd ðə bɹˈæs hˈɔːɹsᵻz plˈʌndʒd ðɛɹ hˈaɪ mˈeɪnz ɪnðə dˈɑːɹk, vˌiːˈaɪ. wʌz ɪt wˈɛl wɪð maɪ lˈʌv?