text_original: 74 A LAY OF THE FAMINE " So hurry to our cabin lone, and dig a grave full deep And underneath the white bog flower our bodies lay to sleep. "Lest winter winds should wreck the walls and throw them on our bones, And stranger birds should tear our flesh from out the tumbled stones.
text_transcription: TE SO HURRY TO OUR CABIN ALONE AND DIG A GRAVE FULL DEEP AND UNDERNEATH THE WHITE BOG FLOWER OUR BODIES LAY TO SLEEP LEST WINTER WINDS SHOULD RACK THE WALLS AND THROW THEM ON OUR BONES AND STRANGER BIRDS SHOULD TEAR OUR FLESH FROM OUT THE TUMBLED STONES
phonemes: sˈɛvənti fˈɔːɹ ɐ lˈeɪ ʌvðə fˈæmɪn " sˌoʊ hˈɜːɹi tʊ ˌaʊɚ kˈæbɪn lˈoʊn, ænd dˈɪɡ ɐ ɡɹˈeɪv fˈʊl dˈiːp ænd ˌʌndɚnˈiːθ ðə wˈaɪt bˈɑːɡ flˈaʊɚɹ ˌaʊɚ bˈɑːdiz lˈeɪ tə slˈiːp. "lˈɛst wˈɪntɚ wˈɪndz ʃˌʊd ɹˈɛk ðə wˈɔːlz ænd θɹˈoʊ ðˌɛm ˌɔn ˌaʊɚ bˈoʊnz, ænd stɹˈeɪndʒɚ bˈɜːdz ʃˌʊd tˈɛɹ ˌaʊɚ flˈɛʃ fɹʌm ˈaʊt ðə tˈʌmbəld stˈoʊnz.