text_original: The warders at the gates, the kitchen maids, The very beggars would stand off from me, And I, their queen, would climb the stairs alone, Pass through the banquet hall, a loathed thing, And seek my chambers for a hiding place, And I should find them but a sepulchre, The very rushes rotted on the floors, The fire in ashes on the freezing hearth. I was a queen, and he who loved me best Made me a woman for a night and day, And now I go unqueened forevermore.
text_transcription: THE WARDERS AT THE GATES THE KITCHEN MAIDS THE VERY BEGGARS WOULD STAND OFF FROM ME AND I THEIR QUEEN WOULD CLIMB THE STAIRS ALONE PASS THROUGH THE BANQUET HALL A LOATHED THING AND SEEK MY CHAMBERS FOR A HIDING PLACE AND I SHOULD FIND THEM BUT A SEPULCHRE THE VERY RUSHES ROTTED ON THE FLOORS THE FIRE IN ASHES ON THE FREEZING HEARTH I WAS A QUEEN AND HE WHO LOVED ME BEST MADE ME A WOMAN FOR A NIGHT AND DAY AND NOW I GO UNQUEANED FOR EVERMORE
phonemes: ðə wˈɔːɹdɚz æt ðə ɡˈeɪts, ðə kˈɪtʃən mˈeɪdz, ðə vˈɛɹi bˈɛɡɚz wʊd stˈænd ˈɔf fɹʌm mˌiː, ænd ˈaɪ, ðɛɹ kwˈiːn, wʊd klˈaɪm ðə stˈɛɹz ɐlˈoʊn, pˈæs θɹuː ðə bˈæŋkwɪt hˈɔːl, ɐ lˈoʊðd θˈɪŋ, ænd sˈiːk maɪ tʃˈeɪmbɚz fɚɹə hˈaɪdɪŋ plˈeɪs, ænd aɪ ʃˌʊd fˈaɪnd ðˌɛm bˌʌt ɐ sˈɛpʌlkɚ, ðə vˈɛɹi ɹˈʌʃᵻz ɹˈɑːɾᵻd ɔnðə flˈɔːɹz, ðə fˈaɪɚɹ ɪn ˈæʃᵻz ɔnðə fɹˈiːzɪŋ hˈɑːɹθ. aɪ wʌzɐ kwˈiːn, ænd hiː hˌuː lˈʌvd mˌiː bˈɛst mˌeɪd mˌiː ɐ wˈʊmən fɚɹə nˈaɪt ænd dˈeɪ, ænd nˈaʊ aɪ ɡˌoʊ ʌŋkwˈiːnd fɚɹˌɛvɚmˈɔːɹ.