text_original: God save you, and make you mend your ways ! " The tipsy revelers hurried to the tree to find Death. He was not to be seen, but on the ground there lay a great heap of golden florins, bushels of them, all bright and shining as if they had just been coined.
text_transcription: GOD SAVE YOU AND MAKE YOU MEND YOUR WAYS THE TIPSY REVELLERS HURRIED TO THE TREE TO FIND DEATH HE WAS NOT TO BE SEEN BUT ON THE GROUND THERE LAY A GREAT HEAP OF GOLDEN FLORINS BUSHELS OF THEM ALL BRIGHT AND SHINING AS IF THEY HAD JUST BEEN COINED
phonemes: ɡˈɑːd sˈeɪv juː, ænd mˌeɪk juː mˈɛnd jʊɹ wˈeɪz ! " ðə tˈɪpsi ɹˈɛvəlɚz hˈɜːɹid tə ðə tɹˈiː tə fˈaɪnd dˈɛθ. hiː wʌz nˌɑːt təbi sˈiːn, bˌʌt ɔnðə ɡɹˈaʊnd ðɛɹ lˈeɪ ɐ ɡɹˈeɪt hˈiːp ʌv ɡˈoʊldən flˈɔːɹɪnz, bˈʊʃəlz ʌv ðˌɛm, ˈɔːl bɹˈaɪt ænd ʃˈaɪnɪŋ æz ɪf ðeɪ hæd dʒˈʌst bˌɪn kˈɔɪnd.