text_original: Aye! for there is no peace to me   But on the peaceless sea! Never a child was glad at my knee, And the soul of a woman has never been mine. What can a woman's kisses be?   I fear to think how her arms would twine. (I'm a longing for the sea!)
text_transcription: AY FOR THERE IS NO PEACE TO ME BUT ON THE PEACELESS SEA NEVER A CHILD WAS GLAD AT MY KNEE AND THE SOUL OF A WOMAN HAS NEVER BEEN MINE WHAT CAN A WOMAN'S KISSES BE I FEAR TO THINK HOW HER ARMS WOULD TWINE I'M A LONGING FOR THE SEA
phonemes: ˈaɪ! fɔːɹ ðɛɹ ɪz nˈoʊ pˈiːs tə mˌiː bˌʌt ɔnðə pˈiːsləs sˈiː! nˈɛvɚɹ ɐ tʃˈaɪld wʌz ɡlˈæd æt maɪ nˈiː, ænd ðə sˈoʊl əvə wˈʊmən hɐz nˈɛvɚ bˌɪn mˈaɪn. wˌʌt kæn ɐ wˈʊmənz kˈɪsᵻz bˈiː?   aɪ fˈɪɹ tə θˈɪŋk hˌaʊ hɜːɹ ˈɑːɹmz wʊd twˈaɪn. (aɪm ɐ lˈɔŋɪŋ fɚðə sˈiː!)