text_original: All this grows bitter that was once so sweet, And many mouths must drain the dregs of it. But none will pity me, nor pity him Whom Love so lashed, and with such cruel thongs.
text_transcription: ALL THIS GROWS BITTER THAT WAS ONCE SO SWEET AND MANY MOUTHS MUST DRAIN THE DREGS OF IT BUT NONE WILL PITY ME NOR PITY HIM WHOM LOVE SO LASHED AND WITH SUCH CRUEL THONGS
phonemes: ˈɔːl ðɪs ɡɹˈoʊz bˈɪɾɚ ðæt wʌz wˈʌns sˌoʊ swˈiːt, ænd mˈɛni mˈaʊðz mˈʌst dɹˈeɪn ðə dɹˈɛɡz ʌv ɪt. bˌʌt nˈʌn wɪl pˈɪɾi mˌiː, nˈɔːɹ pˈɪɾi hˌɪm hˈuːm lˈʌv sˌoʊ lˈæʃt, ænd wɪð sˈʌtʃ kɹˈuːəl θˈɑːŋz.