text_original: Forgive me. Some women bear children in strength, And bite back the cry of their pain in self scorn. But the birth pangs of nations will wring us at length Into such wail as this!  and we sit on forlorn When the man child is born.
text_transcription: FORGIVE ME SOME WOMEN BEAR CHILDREN IN STRENGTH AND BITE BACK THE CRY OF THEIR PAIN AND SELF SCORN BUT THE BIRTH PANGS OF NATIONS WILL RING US AT LENGTH INTO SUCH WAY AS THIS AND WE SIT ON FORLORN WHEN THE MAN CHILD IS BORN
phonemes: fɚɡˈɪv mˌiː. sˌʌm wˈɪmɪn bˈɛɹ tʃˈɪldɹən ɪn stɹˈɛŋθ, ænd bˈaɪt bˈæk ðə kɹˈaɪ ʌv ðɛɹ pˈeɪn ɪn sˈɛlf skˈɔːɹn. bˌʌt ðə bˈɜːθ pˈæŋz ʌv nˈeɪʃənz wɪl ɹˈɪŋ ˌʌs æt lˈɛŋθ ˌɪntʊ sˈʌtʃ wˈeɪl æz ðˈɪs!  ænd wiː sˈɪt ˌɔn fˈɔːɹlɔːɹn wɛn ðə mˈæn tʃˈaɪld ɪz bˈɔːɹn.