text_original: I have eased the hot forehead of fever and pain; I have made the parched meadows grow fertile with grain; I can tell of the powerful wheel o' the mill, That ground out the flour and turned at my will; I can tell of manhood, debased by you, That I have uplifted and crowned anew.
text_transcription: I HAVE EASED THE HOT FOREHEAD OF FEVER AND PAIN I HAVE MADE THE PARCHED MEADOWS GROW FERTILE WITH GRAIN I CAN TELL OF THE POWERFUL WHEEL OF THE MILL THAT GROUND OUT THE FLOWER AND TURNED AT MY WILL I CAN TELL OF MANHOOD DEBASED BY YOU THAT I HAVE UPLIFTED AND CROWNED ANEW
phonemes: aɪ hæv ˈiːzd ðə hˈɑːt fˈɔːɹhɛd ʌv fˈiːvɚ ænd pˈeɪn; aɪ hæv mˌeɪd ðə pˈɑːɹtʃt mˈɛdoʊz ɡɹˈoʊ fˈɜːɾəl wɪð ɡɹˈeɪn; aɪ kæn tˈɛl ʌvðə pˈaʊɚfəl wˈiːl ˈoʊ ðə mˈɪl, ðæt ɡɹˈaʊnd ˈaʊt ðə flˈaʊɚ ænd tˈɜːnd æt maɪ wˈɪl; aɪ kæn tˈɛl ʌv mˈænhʊd, dᵻbˈeɪst baɪ juː, ðæt aɪ hæv ʌplˈɪftᵻd ænd kɹˈaʊnd ɐnˈuː.