text_original: Keep of the Norman, old to flood and cloud! Thou dost reproach me with thy sunset look, That in our common menace, I forsook Hope, the last fear, and stood impartial proud: Almost, almost, while ether spake aloud, Death, from the smoking stones, my spirit shook Into thy hollow as leaves into a brook, No more than they by heaven's assassins cowed.
text_transcription: KEEP OF THE NORMAN O TO FLOOD AND CLOUD THOU DOST REPROACH ME WITH THY SUNSET LOOK THAT IN OUR COMMON MANNERS I FORSOOK HOPE THE LAST FEAR AND STOOD IMPARTIAL PROUD ALMOST WHILE ETHER SPAKE ALOUD DEATH FROM THE SMOKING STONES MY SPIRIT SHOOK INTO THY HOLLOW AS LEAVES INTO A BROOK NO MORE THAN THEY BY HEAVEN'S ASSASSINS COWED
phonemes: kˈiːp ʌvðə nˈɔːɹmən, ˈoʊld tə flˈʌd ænd klˈaʊd! ðˈaʊ dˈɑːst ɹᵻpɹˈoʊtʃ mˌiː wɪð ðˌaɪ sˈʌnsɛt lˈʊk, ðæt ɪn ˌaʊɚ kˈɑːmən mˈɛnɪs, aɪ fɔːɹsˈʊk hˈoʊp, ðə lˈæst fˈɪɹ, ænd stˈʊd ɪmpˈɑːɹʃəl pɹˈaʊd: ˈɔːlmoʊst, ˈɔːlmoʊst, wˌaɪl ˈiːθɚ spˈeɪk ɐlˈaʊd, dˈɛθ, fɹʌmðə smˈoʊkɪŋ stˈoʊnz, maɪ spˈɪɹɪt ʃˈʊk ˌɪntʊ ðˌaɪ hˈɑːloʊ æz lˈiːvz ˌɪntʊ ɐ bɹˈʊk, nˈoʊmˌɔːɹ ðɐn ðeɪ baɪ hˈɛvənz ɐsˈæsɪnz kˈaʊd.