text_original: Glide on ye waves, bear these lines, And tell her my distress; Bear all these sighs, ye gentle winds, And waft them to her breast; Tell her if e'er she prove unkind, I never shall have rest.
text_transcription: GLIDE ON YE WAVES BEAR THESE LINES AND TELL HER MY DISTRESS BEAR ALL THESE SIGHS YOUR GENTLE WINDS AND WAFT THEM TO HER BREAST TELL HER IF EVER SHE PROVE UNKIND I NEVER SHALL HAVE REST
phonemes: ɡlˈaɪd ˌɔn jiː wˈeɪvz, bˈɛɹ ðiːz lˈaɪnz, ænd tˈɛl hɜː maɪ dɪstɹˈɛs; bˈɛɹ ˈɔːl ðiːz sˈaɪz, jiː dʒˈɛntəl wˈɪndz, ænd wˈæft ðˌɛm tə hɜː bɹˈɛst; tˈɛl hɜː ɪf ˈɛɹ ʃiː pɹˈuːv ʌŋkˈaɪnd, aɪ nˈɛvɚ ʃˌæl hæv ɹˈɛst.