text_original: Again,  ah, dear Jesus, have pity   He finds in the chill, waning day, That one has come home from the city   Frail Maudie, whom love led astray. She lies with her babe on her bosom   Half hid by the snow's fleecy spread; A bud and a poor trampled blossom   And both are quite dead.
text_transcription: AGAIN AH DEAR JESUS HAVE PITY HE FINDS IN THE CHILL WANING DAY THAT ONE HAS COME HOME FROM THE CITY FRAIL MAUDY WHOM LOVE LET ASTRAY SHE LIES WITH HER BABE ON HER BOSOM HALF HID BY THE SNOW'S FLEECY SPREAD ABUD AND THE POOR TRAMPLED BLOSSOM AND BOTH ARE QUITE DEAD
phonemes: ɐɡˈɛn,  ˈɑː, dˈɪɹ dʒˈiːzəs, hæv pˈɪɾi hiː fˈaɪndz ɪnðə tʃˈɪl, wˈeɪnɪŋ dˈeɪ, ðˈætwˌʌn hɐz kˈʌm hˈoʊm fɹʌmðə sˈɪɾi fɹˈeɪl mˈɔːdi, hˈuːm lˈʌv lˈɛd ɐstɹˈeɪ. ʃiː lˈaɪz wɪð hɜː bˈeɪb ˌɔn hɜː bˈʊzəm hˈæf hˈɪd baɪ ðə snˈoʊz flˈiːsi spɹˈɛd; ɐ bˈʌd ænd ɐ pˈʊɹ tɹˈæmpəld blˈɔsəm ænd bˈoʊθ ɑːɹ kwˈaɪt dˈɛd.