text_original: I knew not whether to pity or to be angry, such a strange blending she seemed of former pride and arrogance and later suffering. There were the features of the beauty still, the eyes defiant, the lips scornful.
text_transcription: I KNEW NOT WHETHER TO PITY OR TO BE ANGRY SUCH A STRANGE BLENDING SHE SEEMED OF FORMER PRIDE AND ARROGANCE AND LATER SUFFERING THERE WERE THE FEATURES OF THE BEAUTY STILL THE EYES DEFIANT THE LIPS SCORNFUL
phonemes: aɪ nˈuː nˌɑːt wˈɛðɚ tə pˈɪɾi ɔːɹ təbi ˈæŋɡɹi, sˈʌtʃ ɐ stɹˈeɪndʒ blˈɛndɪŋ ʃiː sˈiːmd ʌv fˈɔːɹmɚ pɹˈaɪd ænd ˈæɹəɡəns ænd lˈeɪɾɚ sˈʌfɚɹɪŋ. ðɛɹwˌɜː ðə fˈiːtʃɚz ʌvðə bjˈuːɾi stˈɪl, ðɪ ˈaɪz dᵻfˈaɪənt, ðə lˈɪps skˈɔːɹnfəl.