text_original: Don't I know how in time they seem to corrode one's very soul, and dull one's vision, till faith itself can become clouded, and hope goes, and all one's work seems of no avail!
text_transcription: DON'T I KNOW HOW IN TIME THEY SEEM TO CORRODE ONE'S VERY SOUL AND DULL ONE'S VISION TILL FAITH ITSELF CAN BECOME CLOUDED AND HOPE GOES AND ALL ONE'S WORK SEEMS OF NO AVAIL
phonemes: dˈoʊnt aɪ nˈoʊ hˌaʊ ɪn tˈaɪm ðeɪ sˈiːm tə kɚɹˈoʊd wˈʌnz vˈɛɹi sˈoʊl, ænd dˈʌl wˈʌnz vˈɪʒən, tˈɪl fˈeɪθ ɪtsˈɛlf kæn bɪkˌʌm klˈaʊdᵻd, ænd hˈoʊp ɡˈoʊz, ænd ˈɔːl wˈʌnz wˈɜːk sˈiːmz ʌv nˈoʊ ɐvˈeɪl!