text_original: The briny flood forced back from shores of woe, Needs but to touch the strands of joy to overflow. XLV. About the captives welcoming warriors crowd, All eyes are wet, and Brewster sobs aloud.
text_transcription: THE BRINY FLOOD FORCE BACK FROM SHORES OF WOE NEEDS BUT TO TOUCH THE STRANDS OF JOY TO OVERFLOW FORTY FOUR ABOUT THE CAPTIVE'S WELCOMING WARRIORS CROWD ALL EYES ARE WET AND BREWSTER SOBS ALOUD
phonemes: ðə bɹˈaɪni flˈʌd fˈɔːɹst bˈæk fɹʌm ʃˈɔːɹz ʌv wˈoʊ, nˈiːdz bˌʌt tə tˈʌtʃ ðə stɹˈændz ʌv dʒˈɔɪ tʊ ˌoʊvɚflˈoʊ. ɹˌoʊmən fˈɔːɹɾi fˈaɪv. ɐbˌaʊt ðə kˈæptɪvz wˈɛlkʌmɪŋ wˈɔːɹɪɚz kɹˈaʊd, ˈɔːl ˈaɪz ɑːɹ wˈɛt, ænd bɹˈuːstɚ sˈɑːbz ɐlˈaʊd.