text_original: Their father dead, the loving sons fulfilled The dying wish, that made their labour light: From end to end the fields were duly tilled. The harvest was enormous, though they found No golden treasures, howsoever small.
text_transcription: THEIR FATHER DEAD THEIR LOVING SONS FULFILLED THE DYING WISH THAT MADE THEIR LABOUR LIGHT FROM END TO END THE FIELDS WERE DULY TILLED THE HARVEST WAS ENORMOUS THOUGH THEY FOUND NO GOLDEN TREASURES HOWEVER SMALL
phonemes: ðɛɹ fˈɑːðɚ dˈɛd, ðə lˈʌvɪŋ sˈʌnz fʊlfˈɪld ðə dˈaɪɪŋ wˈɪʃ, ðæt mˌeɪd ðɛɹ lˈeɪbɚ lˈaɪt: fɹʌm ˈɛnd tʊ ˈɛnd ðə fˈiːldz wɜː djˈuːli tˈɪld. ðə hˈɑːɹvɪst wʌz ɪnˈɔːɹməs, ðˌoʊ ðeɪ fˈaʊnd nˈoʊ ɡˈoʊldən tɹˈɛʒɚz, haʊsˌoʊˈɛvɚ smˈɔːl.