text_original: SPECTRES THAT GRIEVE "IT is not death that harrows us," they lipped, "The soundless cell is in itself relief, For life is an unfenced flower, benumbed and nipped At unawares, and at its best but brief."
text_transcription: SPECTRES THAT GRIEVE IT IS NOT DEATH THAT HARROWS US THEY LIPPED THE SOUNDLESS CELL IS IN ITSELF RELIEF FOR LIFE IS AN UNFENCED FLOWER BENUMBED AND NIPPED AT UNAWARES AND AT ITS BEST BUT BRIEF
phonemes: spˈɛktɚz ðæt ɡɹˈiːv "ˌaɪtˈiː ɪz nˌɑːt dˈɛθ ðæt hˈæɹoʊz ˌʌs," ðeɪ lˈɪpt, "ðə sˈaʊndləs sˈɛl ɪz ɪn ɪtsˈɛlf ɹᵻlˈiːf, fɔːɹ lˈaɪf ɪz ɐn ʌnfˈɛnst flˈaʊɚ, bᵻnˈʌmd ænd nˈɪpt æɾ ˌʌnəwˈɛɹz, ænd æɾ ɪts bˈɛst bˌʌt bɹˈiːf."