text_original: 'Tis time to bid my friend a long farewell, The muse retreats far in yon crystal cell; Faint inspiration sickens as she flies, Like distant echo spent, the spirit dies.
text_transcription: TIS TIME TO BID MY FRIEND A LONG FAREWELL THE MUSE RETREATS FAR IN YON CRYSTAL CELL FAINT INSPIRATION SICKENS AS SHE FLIES LIKE DISTANT ECHO SPENT THE SPIRIT DIES
phonemes: tˈɪz tˈaɪm tə bˈɪd maɪ fɹˈɛnd ɐ lˈɔŋ fɛɹwˈɛl, ðə mjˈuːz ɹᵻtɹˈiːts fˈɑːɹ ɪn jˈɑːn kɹˈɪstəl sˈɛl; fˈeɪnt ˌɪnspɚɹˈeɪʃən sˈɪkənz æz ʃiː flˈaɪz, lˈaɪk dˈɪstənt ˈɛkoʊ spˈɛnt, ðə spˈɪɹɪt dˈaɪz.