text_original: "I'll mend these miseries," then said I, And so, at dead of night, I went and, screened from sight, That nought should keep our souls in severance, I set a rose bush. "This," said I, "May end divisions dire and wry, And long drawn days of blight."
text_transcription: I'LL MEND THESE MISERIES THEN SAID I AND SO AT DEAD OF NIGHT I WENT AND SCREENED FROM SIGHT THAT NAUGHT SHOULD KEEP OUR SOULS IN SEVERANCE I SET A ROSE BUSH THIS SAID I MAY EMPTY VISIONS DIRE AND WRY AND LONG DRAWN DAYS OF BLIGHT
phonemes: "aɪl mˈɛnd ðiːz mˈɪzɚɹiz," ðˈɛn sˈɛd ˈaɪ, ænd sˈoʊ, æt dˈɛd ʌv nˈaɪt, aɪ wˈɛnt ænd, skɹˈiːnd fɹʌm sˈaɪt, ðæt nˈɔːt ʃˌʊd kˈiːp ˌaʊɚ sˈoʊlz ɪn sˈɛvɚɹəns, aɪ sˈɛt ɐ ɹˈoʊz bˈʊʃ. "ðˈɪs," sˈɛd ˈaɪ, "mˈeɪ ˈɛnd dᵻvˈɪʒənz dˈaɪɚ ænd ɹˈaɪ, ænd lˈɔŋ dɹˈɔːn dˈeɪz ʌv blˈaɪt."