text_original: A wicked smile Wrinkled her face, her lips grew thin, A long way out she thrust her chin: You know that I should strangle you While you were sleeping; or bite through Your throat, by God's help: ah! she said, Lord Jesus, pity your poor maid! For in such wise they hem me in, I cannot choose but sin and sin, Whatever happens: yet I think They could not make me eat or drink, And so should I just reach my rest.
text_transcription: A WICKED SMILE WRINKLED HER FACE HER LIPS GREW THIN A LONG WAY OUT SHE THRUST HER CHIN YOU KNOW THAT I SHOULD STRANGLE YOU WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING OR BITE THROUGH YOUR THROAT BY GOD'S HELP AH SHE SAID LORD JESUS PITY YOUR POOR MAID FOR IN SUCH WISE THEY HEM ME IN I CANNOT CHOOSE BUT SIN AND SIN WHATEVER HAPPENS YET I THINK THEY COULD NOT MAKE ME EAT OR DRINK AND SO SHOULD I JUST REACH MY REST
phonemes: ɐ wˈɪkᵻd smˈaɪl ɹˈɪŋkəld hɜː fˈeɪs, hɜː lˈɪps ɡɹˈuː θˈɪn, ɐ lˈɔŋ wˈeɪ ˈaʊt ʃiː θɹˈʌst hɜː tʃˈɪn: juː nˈoʊ ðæt aɪ ʃˌʊd stɹˈæŋɡəl juː wˌaɪl juː wɜː slˈiːpɪŋ; ɔːɹ bˈaɪt θɹuː jʊɹ θɹˈoʊt, baɪ ɡˈɑːdz hˈɛlp: ˈɑː! ʃiː sˈɛd, lˈɔːɹd dʒˈiːzəs, pˈɪɾi jʊɹ pˈʊɹ mˈeɪd! fɔːɹ ɪn sˈʌtʃ wˈaɪz ðeɪ hˈɛm mˌiː ˈɪn, aɪ kænˈɑːt tʃˈuːz bˌʌt sˈɪn ænd sˈɪn, wʌtˈɛvɚ hˈæpənz: jˈɛt aɪ θˈɪŋk ðeɪ kʊd nˌɑːt mˌeɪk mˌiː ˈiːt ɔːɹ dɹˈɪŋk, ænd sˌoʊ ʃˌʊd aɪ dʒˈʌst ɹˈiːtʃ maɪ ɹˈɛst.