text_original: As we pass by the roses, Into your finger tip Bruise you the thorn. Quick at the prick you start, Crying, "Alas, the smart! Farewell, my pleasant friend, Wisely our way we wend Out of the reach of roses."
text_transcription: AS WE PASS BY THE ROSES INTO YOUR FINGER TIP BRUISE YOU THE THORN QUICK AT THE PRICK YOU START CRYING ALAS THE SMART FAREWELL MY PLEASANT FRIEND WISELY OUR WAY WE WENT OUT OF THE REACH OF ROSES
phonemes: æz wiː pˈæs baɪ ðə ɹˈoʊzᵻz, ˌɪntʊ jʊɹ fˈɪŋɡɚ tˈɪp bɹˈuːz juː ðə θˈɔːɹn. kwˈɪk æt ðə pɹˈɪk juː stˈɑːɹt, kɹˈaɪɪŋ, "ɐlˈæs, ðə smˈɑːɹt! fɛɹwˈɛl, maɪ plˈɛzənt fɹˈɛnd, wˈaɪzli ˌaʊɚ wˈeɪ wiː wˈɛnd ˌaʊɾəv ðə ɹˈiːtʃ ʌv ɹˈoʊzᵻz."