text_original: As if by instinct you foresaw the weeds of woe and strife, That grow up in the pathway of your unseen future life. Oh! happy, ten times happy, were you could you shun the wild And rugged waste; and turning back for ever, be a child.
text_transcription: AS IF BY INSTINCT YOU FORESAW THE WEEDS OF WOE AND STRIFE THAT GROW UP IN THE PATHWAY OF YOUR UNSEEN FUTURE LIFE O HAPPY TEN TIMES HAPPY WERE YOU COULD YOU SHUN THE WILD AND RUGGED WASTE AND TURNING BACK FOR EVER BE A CHILD
phonemes: æz ɪf baɪ ˈɪnstɪŋkt juː fˈɔːɹsɔː ðə wˈiːdz ʌv wˈoʊ ænd stɹˈaɪf, ðæt ɡɹˈoʊ ˌʌp ɪnðə pˈæθweɪ ʌv jʊɹ ʌnsˈiːn fjˈuːtʃɚ lˈaɪf. ˈoʊ! hˈæpi, tˈɛn tˈaɪmz hˈæpi, wɜː juː kʊd juː ʃˈʌn ðə wˈaɪld ænd ɹˈʌɡᵻd wˈeɪst; ænd tˈɜːnɪŋ bˈæk fɔːɹ ˈɛvɚ, biː ɐ tʃˈaɪld.