text_original: The pomps Assyria knew Moan to the twilight of the bitter sands With lips of stone, and in the desert stands No record of the millions that she slew. There gleams no throne in Time s august review But sent a sword upon the patient lands.
text_transcription: THE POMPS ASSYRIA NEW MOAN TO THE TWILIGHT OF THE BITTER SANDS WITH LIPS OF STONE AND IN THE DESERT STANDS NO RECORD OF THE MILLIONS THAT SHE SLEW THERE GLEAMS NO THRONE IN TIME'S AUGUSTRI VIEW BUT SENT A SWORD UPON THE PATIENT LANDS
phonemes: ðə pˈɑːmps ɐsˈɪɹiə nˈuː mˈoʊn tə ðə twˈaɪlaɪt ʌvðə bˈɪɾɚ sˈændz wɪð lˈɪps ʌv stˈoʊn, ænd ɪnðə dˈɛzɚt stˈændz nˈoʊ ɹˈɛkɚd ʌvðə mˈɪliənz ðæt ʃiː slˈuː. ðɛɹ ɡlˈiːmz nˈoʊ θɹˈoʊn ɪn tˈaɪm ˈɛs ˈɔːɡəst ɹᵻvjˈuː bˌʌt sˈɛnt ɐ sˈɔːɹd əpˌɑːn ðə pˈeɪʃənt lˈændz.