text_original: No more the glances of the haughty Dane Can fill thy gentle breast with longing vain. The waves that stilled thy heart have drowned thy pain, And washed the sorrow from thy sweet, pale face, Ophelia.
text_transcription: NO MORE THE GLANCES OF THE HAUGHTY DANE CAN FILL THY GENTLE BREAST WITH LONGING VAIN THE WAVES THAT STILL THY HEART HAVE DROWNED THY PAIN AND WASH THE SORROW FROM THY SWEET PALE FACE OF FELIA
phonemes: nˈoʊmˌɔːɹ ðə ɡlˈænsᵻz ʌvðə hˈɔːɾi dˈeɪn kæn fˈɪl ðˌaɪ dʒˈɛntəl bɹˈɛst wɪð lˈɔŋɪŋ vˈeɪn. ðə wˈeɪvz ðæt stˈɪld ðˌaɪ hˈɑːɹt hæv dɹˈaʊnd ðˌaɪ pˈeɪn, ænd wˈɑːʃt ðə sˈɑːɹoʊ fɹʌm ðˌaɪ swˈiːt, pˈeɪl fˈeɪs, ɑːfˈiːliə.