text_original: 63 THAT NEVER I LOSE HIM MORE. " Oh ! who are you on this stormy night, And how shall I render you aid, For your hands ar^ all too fine and white For the hands of a beggar maid ? '' ^^ Oh ! little am I but a beggar maid, And I pray to rest my head, Where your horse and your dog in the stall are laid. With a crust of your broken bread.'* " And why are you here on the wide world tost, And why have you wandered away
text_transcription: THAT NEVER I LOSE HIM MORE OH WHO ARE YOU ON THIS STORMY NIGHT AND HOW SHALL I RENDER YOU AID FOR YOUR HANDS ARE ALL TOO FINE AND WHITE FOR THE HANDS OF A BEGGAR MAID O LITTLE AM I BUT A BEGGAR MAID AND I PRAY TO REST MY HEAD WHERE YOUR DOG AND YOUR HORSE IN THE STALL ARE LAID WITH THE CRUST OF YOUR BROKEN BREAD AND WHY ARE YOU HERE ON THE WIDE WORLD TOSSED AND WHY HAVE YOU WANDERED AWAY
phonemes: sˈɪksti θɹˈiː ðæt nˈɛvɚɹ aɪ lˈuːz hˌɪm mˈɔːɹ. " ˈoʊ ! hˌuː ɑːɹ juː ˌɔn ðɪs stˈɔːɹmi nˈaɪt, ænd hˌaʊ ʃˌæl aɪ ɹˈɛndɚ juː ˈeɪd, fɔːɹ jʊɹ hˈændz ˈɑːɹ ˈɔːl tˈuː fˈaɪn ænd wˈaɪt fɚðə hˈændz əvə bˈɛɡɚ mˈeɪd ? ˈoʊ ! lˈɪɾəl ɐm aɪ bˌʌt ɐ bˈɛɡɚ mˈeɪd, ænd aɪ pɹˈeɪ tə ɹˈɛst maɪ hˈɛd, wˌɛɹ jʊɹ hˈɔːɹs ænd jʊɹ dˈɑːɡ ɪnðə stˈɔːl ɑːɹ lˈeɪd. wɪð ɐ kɹˈʌst ʌv jʊɹ bɹˈoʊkən bɹˈɛd.ˈæstɚɹˌɪsk " ænd wˌaɪ ɑːɹ juː hˈɪɹ ɔnðə wˈaɪd wˈɜːld tˈɑːst, ænd wˌaɪ hæv juː wˈɔndɚd ɐwˈeɪ