text_original: _WE cannot sing of life, whose years are brief, Nor sad heart stories tell, who know no grief, Nor write of shipwrecks on the seas of Fate, Whose ship from out the harbor sailed but late.
text_transcription: WE CANNOT SING OF LIFE WHOSE YEARS ARE BRIEF NOR SAD HARD STORIES TELL WHO KNOW NO GRIEF NOR RIDE OF SHIPWRECKS ON THE SEAS OF FATE WHOSE SHIP FROM OUT THE HARBOR SAILED BUT LATE
phonemes: wiː kænˈɑːt sˈɪŋ ʌv lˈaɪf, hˌuːz jˈɪɹz ɑːɹ bɹˈiːf, nˈɔːɹ sˈæd hˈɑːɹt stˈɔːɹiz tˈɛl, hˌuː nˈoʊ nˈoʊ ɡɹˈiːf, nˈɔːɹ ɹˈaɪt ʌv ʃˈɪpɹɛks ɔnðə sˈiːz ʌv fˈeɪt, hˌuːz ʃˈɪp fɹʌm ˈaʊt ðə hˈɑːɹbɚ sˈeɪld bˌʌt lˈeɪt.