text_original: The dead to kill. I say, the ghosts of fires will never stir, Nor woman lift the lashes Of eyes wept dim, howe'er yours shine for love of her!
text_transcription: THE DEAD TO KILL I SAY THE GHOSTS OF FIRES WILL NEVER STIR NOR WOMAN LIFT THE LASHES OF EYES WEPT DIM HOWEVER YOURS SHINE FOR LOVE OF HER
phonemes: ðə dˈɛd tə kˈɪl. aɪ sˈeɪ, ðə ɡˈoʊsts ʌv fˈaɪɚz wɪl nˈɛvɚ stˈɜː, nˈɔːɹ wˈʊmən lˈɪft ðə lˈæʃᵻz ʌv ˈaɪz wˈɛpt dˈɪm, hˈaʊɛɹ jˈɔːɹz ʃˈaɪn fɔːɹ lˈʌv ʌv hɜː!