text_original: Quick the hopeful mother answers: "O my worthy son, beloved, O my precious silver buckle, Hast thou with thy mind of magic, Wandered through the fields of Northland Searching for thy home and kindred? As one dead I long have mourned thee, Had supposed thee in Manala.
text_transcription: QUICK THE HOPEFUL MOTHER ANSWERS O MY WORTHY SON BELOVED O MY PRECIOUS SILVER BUCKLE HAST THOU WITH THY MIND OF MAGIC WANDERED THROUGH THE FIELDS OF NORTHLAND SEARCHING FOR THY HOME AND KINDRED AS ONE DEAD I LONG HAVE MOURNED THEE HAD SUPPOSED THEE IN MANALA
phonemes: kwˈɪk ðə hˈoʊpfəl mˈʌðɚɹ ˈænsɚz: "ˈoʊ maɪ wˈɜːði sˈʌn, bᵻlˈʌvd, ˈoʊ maɪ pɹˈɛʃəs sˈɪlvɚ bˈʌkəl, hˈeɪst ðˈaʊ wɪð ðˌaɪ mˈaɪnd ʌv mˈædʒɪk, wˈɔndɚd θɹuː ðə fˈiːldz ʌv nˈɔːɹθlənd sˈɜːtʃɪŋ fɔːɹ ðˌaɪ hˈoʊm ænd kˈɪndɹɪd? æz wˈʌn dˈɛd aɪ lˈɔŋ hæv mˈɔːɹnd ðˈiː, hæd səpˈoʊzd ðiː ɪn mænˈɑːlə.