text_original: Nine and ninety treasure crocks This keen miser fairy hath, Hid in mountains, woods, and rocks, Ruin and round tow'r, cave and rath, And where the cormorants build; From times of old Guarded by him; Each of them fill'd Full to the brim With gold!
text_transcription: NINE AND NINETY TREASURE CROCKS THIS KEEN MISER HAIRY HATH HIDDEN MOUNTAINS WOODS AND ROCKS RUIN AND ROUND TOWER CAVE AND WRATH AND WHERE THE CORMER UNSPILLED FROM TIMES OF OLD GUARDED BY HIM EACH OF THEM FILLED FULL TO THE BRIM WITH GOLD
phonemes: nˈaɪn ænd nˈaɪnti tɹˈɛʒɚ kɹˈɑːks ðɪs kˈiːn mˈaɪzɚ fˈɛɹi hæθ, hˈɪd ɪn mˈaʊntɪnz, wˈʊdz, ænd ɹˈɑːks, ɹˈuːɪn ænd ɹˈaʊnd tˈoʊɚ, kˈeɪv ænd ɹˈæθ, ænd wˌɛɹ ðə kˈɔːɹmɚɹənts bˈɪld; fɹʌm tˈaɪmz ʌv ˈoʊld ɡˈɑːɹdᵻd baɪ hˌɪm; ˈiːtʃ əv ðˌɛm fˈɪld fˈʊl tə ðə bɹˈɪm wɪð ɡˈoʊld!