The sick roseJohn H. CorinaO Rose, thou art sick!The invisible wormThat flies in the night,In the howling storm,Has found out thy bedOf crimson joy:And his dark secret loveDoes thy life destroy.
← LibraryJohn H. Corina · songThe sick roseThe sick rose by John H. Corina with libretto, IPA, translation, and study tools.Audio diction — free with sign-inTTS in 14 languages, loop passages, slow down lines.Sign in with GoogleSongThe sick roseJohn H. CorinaOˈəʊRoseɹəʊz,thouðaʊartˈɑːtsicksˈɪk!TheðəinvisibleɪnvˈɪzəbəlwormwˈɜːmThatðˈætfliesflˈaɪzinˈɪntheðənightnˈaɪt,Inˈɪntheðəhowlinghˈaʊlɪŋstormstˈɔːm,HashˈæzfoundfˈaʊndoutˈaʊtthyðˈaɪbedbˈɛdOfˈɒvcrimsonkɹˈɪmsənjoydʒˈɔɪ:Andˈændhishˈɪzdarkdˈɑːksecretˈsiː.kɹɪtlovelˈʌvDoesdəzthyðˈaɪlifelˈaɪfdestroydɪstɹˈɔɪ.