text_original: Never, in long years, Gill, never did you procure me one thrill of pleasure ; and yet to day your death, my son, seems to me the most insupportable of all my afflictions. Your memory to day seems to me to be twined with comfort and rapture. Alas .' alas
text_transcription: NEVER IN LONG YEARS STILL NEVER DID YOU PROCURE ME ONE THRILL OF PLEASURE AND YET TO DAY YOUR DEATH MY SON SEEMS TO BE THE MOST INSUPPORTABLE OF ALL MY AFFLICTIONS YOUR MEMORY TO DAY SEEMS TO ME TO BE TWINED WITH COMFORT AND RAPTURE ALAS ALAS
phonemes: nˈɛvɚ, ɪn lˈɔŋ jˈɪɹz, ɡˈɪl, nˈɛvɚ dˈɪd juː pɹəkjˈʊɹ mˌiː wˈʌn θɹˈɪl ʌv plˈɛʒɚ ; ænd jˈɛt tə dˈeɪ jʊɹ dˈɛθ, maɪ sˈʌn, sˈiːmz tə mˌiː ðə mˈoʊst ɪnsəpˈɔːɹɾəbəl ʌv ˈɔːl maɪ ɐflˈɪkʃənz. jʊɹ mˈɛmɚɹi tə dˈeɪ sˈiːmz tə mˌiː təbi twˈaɪnd wɪð kˈʌmfɚt ænd ɹˈæptʃɚ. ɐlˈæs .ɐlˈæs