text_original: And one, in years a youth, in woe a man, Sad Brewster, scarred by sorrow's blighting ban, Looks, panting, where his captive sister sleeps, And o'er his face the shade of murder creeps. His nostrils quiver like a hungry beast Who scents anear the bloody carnal feast. He longs to leap down in that slumbering vale And leave no foe alive to tell the awful tale.
text_transcription: AND ONE IN YEARS A YOUTH IN WOE A MAN SAD BREWSTER SCARRED BY SORROW'S BLIGHTING BAN LOOKS PANTING WHERE HIS CAPTIVE SISTER SLEEPS AND OVER HIS FACE THE SHADE OF MURDER CREEPS HIS NOSTRILS QUIVER LIKE A HUNGRY BEAST WHO SENDS ANEAR THE BLOODY CARDLE FEAST HE LONGS TO LEAP DOWN IN THAT SLUMBERING VALE AND LEAVE NO FOE ALIVE TO TELL THE AWFUL TALE
phonemes: ænd wˌʌn, ɪn jˈɪɹz ɐ jˈuːθ, ɪn wˈoʊ ɐ mˈæn, sˈæd bɹˈuːstɚ, skˈɑːɹd baɪ sˈɑːɹoʊz blˈaɪɾɪŋ bˈæn, lˈʊks, pˈæntɪŋ, wˌɛɹ hɪz kˈæptɪv sˈɪstɚ slˈiːps, ænd ˈɔːɹ hɪz fˈeɪs ðə ʃˈeɪd ʌv mˈɜːdɚ kɹˈiːps. hɪz nˈɑːstɹəlz kwˈɪvɚ lˈaɪk ɐ hˈʌŋɡɹi bˈiːst hˌuː sˈɛnts ˈeɪnɑːɹ ðə blˈʌdi kˈɑːɹnəl fˈiːst. hiː lˈɔŋz tə lˈiːp dˌaʊn ɪn ðæt slˈʌmbɚɹɪŋ vˈeɪl ænd lˈiːv nˈoʊ fˈoʊ ɐlˈaɪv tə tˈɛl ðɪ ˈɔːfəl tˈeɪl.