text_original: Oh, we pass by the roses! Where does the red drop drip? Where is the thorn? What though 'tis hid and pressed Piercing into my breast? Scathless, I stretch my hand; Strong as their roots I stand, And dare to trust the roses.
text_transcription: O WE PASS BY THE ROSES WHERE DOES THE RED DROP DRIP WHERE IS THE THORN WHAT THOUGH TIS HIDDEN PRESSED PIERCING INTO MY BREAST SCATHLESS I STRETCH MY HAND STRONG AS THEIR ROOTS I STAND AND DARE TO TRUST THE ROSES
phonemes: ˈoʊ, wiː pˈæs baɪ ðə ɹˈoʊzᵻz! wˌɛɹ dˈʌz ðə ɹˈɛd dɹˈɑːp dɹˈɪp? wˌɛɹ ɪz ðə θˈɔːɹn? wˌʌt ðˌoʊ tˈɪz hˈɪd ænd pɹˈɛst pˈɪɹsɪŋ ˌɪntʊ maɪ bɹˈɛst? skˈæθləs, aɪ stɹˈɛtʃ maɪ hˈænd; stɹˈɔŋ æz ðɛɹ ɹˈuːts aɪ stˈænd, ænd dˈɛɹ tə tɹˈʌst ðə ɹˈoʊzᵻz.