text_original: Then, like a joy born out of blackest sorrow, The miracle of morning seems to say, "There is no night without its dear to morrow, No lonely dark that does not find the day."
text_transcription: THEN LIKE A JOY BORNE OUT OF BLACKEST SORROW THE MIRACLE OF MORNING SEEMS TO SAY THERE IS NO NIGHT ITS DEER TO MORROW NO LONELY DARK THAT DOES NOT FIND THE DAY
phonemes: ðˈɛn, lˈaɪk ɐ dʒˈɔɪ bˈɔːɹn ˌaʊɾəv blˈækɪst sˈɑːɹoʊ, ðə mˈɪɹəkəl ʌv mˈɔːɹnɪŋ sˈiːmz tə sˈeɪ, "ðɛɹ ɪz nˈoʊ nˈaɪt wɪðˌaʊt ɪts dˈɪɹ tə mˈɑːɹoʊ, nˈoʊ lˈoʊnli dˈɑːɹk ðæt dʌznˌɑːt fˈaɪnd ðə dˈeɪ."