text_original: But she the goddess whose white star is set, Whose fane was pillaged for this sombre shrine, Could she look down upon those lips of thine, And hear thee mutter, would she still regret?
text_transcription: BUT SHE THE GODDESS WHOSE WHITE STAR IS SET WHOSE FANE WAS PILLAGED FOR THIS SOMBRE SHRINE COULD SHE LOOK DOWN UPON THOSE LIPS OF THINE AND HEAR THEE MUTTER WOULD SHE STILL REGRET
phonemes: bˌʌt ʃiː ðə ɡˈɑːdəs hˌuːz wˈaɪt stˈɑːɹ ɪz sˈɛt, hˌuːz fˈeɪn wʌz pˈɪlɪdʒd fɔːɹ ðɪs sˈɑːmbɚ ʃɹˈaɪn, kʊd ʃiː lˈʊk dˌaʊn əpˌɑːn ðoʊz lˈɪps ʌv ðˈaɪn, ænd hˈɪɹ ðiː mˈʌɾɚ, wʊd ʃiː stˈɪl ɹᵻɡɹˈɛt?