text_original: 43 That face ! — I count long hours, long days,  It beats upon mine eyes ; And still my soul thrusts back its gaze, Until the dread thing dies.
text_transcription: THAT FACE I COUNT LONG HOURS LONG DAYS IT BEATS UPON MINE EYES AND STILL MY SOUL THRUSTS BACK ITS GAZE UNTIL THE DREAD THING DIES
phonemes: fˈɔːɹɾi θɹˈiː ðæt fˈeɪs ! — aɪ kˈaʊnt lˈɔŋ ˈaʊɚz, lˈɔŋ dˈeɪz,  ɪt bˈiːts əpˌɑːn mˈaɪn ˈaɪz ; ænd stˈɪl maɪ sˈoʊl θɹˈʌsts bˈæk ɪts ɡˈeɪz, ʌntˈɪl ðə dɹˈɛd θˈɪŋ dˈaɪz.