text_original: Does no mate mourn thee, faithful to thee yet, Deep in the wilderness where men are few, Whose wings, now tireless on the eternal blue, Would fold by thine on some snow parapet? 42 THE CAGED EAGLE Or was it thine the bitter coasts to know, Where the profound Atlantic thunders welled To walls from which thine ageless eyes beheld The northern ocean foaming far below?
text_transcription: DOES NO MATE MOURN THEE FAITHFUL TO THEE YET DEEP IN THE WILDERNESS WHERE MEN ARE FEW WHOSE WINGS NOW TIRELESS ON THE ETERNAL BLUE WOULD FOLD BY THINE ON SOME SNOW PARAPET OR WAS IT THINE THE BITTER COASTS TO KNOW WHERE THE PROFOUND ATLANTIC THUNDERS WELLED TO WALLS FROM WHICH THINE AGELESS EYES BEHELD THE NORTHERN OCEAN FOAMING FAR BELOW
phonemes: dˈʌz nˈoʊ mˈeɪt mˈɔːɹn ðˈiː, fˈeɪθfəl tə ðiː jˈɛt, dˈiːp ɪnðə wˈɪldɚnəs wˌɛɹ mˈɛn ɑːɹ fjˈuː, hˌuːz wˈɪŋz, nˈaʊ tˈaɪɚləs ɔnðɪ ɪtˈɜːnəl blˈuː, wʊd fˈoʊld baɪ ðaɪn ˌɔn sˌʌm snˈoʊ pˈæɹəpɪt? fˈɔːɹɾi tˈuː ðə kˈeɪdʒd ˈiːɡəl ɔːɹ wʌz ɪt ðaɪn ðə bˈɪɾɚ kˈoʊsts tə nˈoʊ, wˌɛɹ ðə pɹəfˈaʊnd ɐtlˈæntɪk θˈʌndɚz wˈɛld tə wˈɔːlz fɹʌm wˈɪtʃ ðaɪn ˈeɪdʒləs ˈaɪz bᵻhˈɛld ðə nˈɔːɹðɚn ˈoʊʃən fˈoʊmɪŋ fˈɑːɹ bᵻlˈoʊ?