text_original: Outcast was she from what Life holdeth dear; Banished from joy that other souls might win; And from the dark beyond she turned with fear, Being so branded by the mark of sin. Yet when at last she raised her troubled face, Haunted by sorrow, whitened by alarms, Mary leaned down from out the pictured place, And laid the little Christ within her arms.
text_transcription: OUTCAST WAS SHE FROM WHAT LIFE HOLDETH DEAR BANISHED FROM JOY THAT OTHER SOULS MIGHT WIN AND FROM THE DARK BEYOND SHE TURNED WITH FEAR BEING SO BRANDED BY THE MARK OF SIN YET WHEN AT LAST SHE RAISED HER TROUBLED FACE HAUNTED BY SORROW WHITENED BY ALARMS MARY LEANED DOWN FROM OUT THE PICTURED PLACE AND LAID THE LITTLE CHRIST WITHIN HER ARMS
phonemes: ˈaʊtkæst wʌz ʃiː fɹʌm wʌt lˈaɪf hˈoʊldəθ dˈɪɹ; bˈænɪʃt fɹʌm dʒˈɔɪ ðæt ˈʌðɚ sˈoʊlz mˌaɪt wˈɪn; ænd fɹʌmðə dˈɑːɹk bᵻjˌɔnd ʃiː tˈɜːnd wɪð fˈɪɹ, bˌiːɪŋ sˌoʊ bɹˈændᵻd baɪ ðə mˈɑːɹk ʌv sˈɪn. jˈɛt wɛn æt lˈæst ʃiː ɹˈeɪzd hɜː tɹˈʌbəld fˈeɪs, hˈɔːntᵻd baɪ sˈɑːɹoʊ, wˈaɪʔn̩d baɪ ɐlˈɑːɹmz, mˈɛɹi lˈiːnd dˌaʊn fɹʌm ˈaʊt ðə pˈɪktʃɚd plˈeɪs, ænd lˈeɪd ðə lˈɪɾəl kɹˈaɪst wɪðˌɪn hɜːɹ ˈɑːɹmz.