text_original: Men were saying: "Behold this thread," And loud the praise of the spinner rang. The world has forgotten the singer's name— Her rose is faded, her songs are old; But far o'er the ocean the spinner's fame Yet is blazoned in lines of gold.
text_transcription: MEN WERE SAYING BEHOLD THIS THREAD AND LOUD THE PRAISE OF THE SPINNER RANG THE WORLD HAS FORGOTTEN THE SINGER'S NAME HER ROSE IS FADED HER SONGS ARE OLD BUT FAR O'ER THE OCEAN THE SPINNER'S FAME YET IS BLAZONED IN LINES OF GOLD
phonemes: mˈɛn wɜː sˈeɪɪŋ: "bᵻhˈoʊld ðɪs θɹˈɛd," ænd lˈaʊd ðə pɹˈeɪz ʌvðə spˈɪnɚ ɹˈæŋ. ðə wˈɜːld hɐz fɚɡˈɑːʔn̩ ðə sˈɪŋɚz nˈeɪm— hɜː ɹˈoʊz ɪz fˈeɪdᵻd, hɜː sˈɔŋz ɑːɹ ˈoʊld; bˌʌt fˈɑːɹ ˈɔːɹ ðɪ ˈoʊʃən ðə spˈɪnɚz fˈeɪm jˈɛt ɪz blˈeɪzɑːnd ɪn lˈaɪnz ʌv ɡˈoʊld.