text_original: For the old love, and the old year, They both have passed away; And I never can find the old cheer Come what will or may. I heard the bell in the tall church steeple Clang out a joyful strain. And I thought, 'Of all the great world's people, I have the bitterest pain.' For the old year was a good year, And the old love was sweet; And how could my heart hold any cheer When both lay dead at my feet.
text_transcription: FOR THE OLD LOVE AND THE OLD YEAR THEY BOTH HAVE PASSED AWAY AND I NEVER CAN FIND THE OLD SHEER COME WHAT WILL I HEARD THE BELL IN THE TALL CHURCH STEEPLE CLANG OUT A JOYFUL STRAIN AND I THOUGHT OF ALL THE GREAT WORLD'S PEOPLE I HAVE THE BITTEREST PAIN FOR THE OLD YEAR WAS A GOOD YEAR AND THE OLD LOVE WAS SWEET AND HOW COULD MY HEART HOLD ANY CHEER WHEN BOTH LAY DEAD AT MY FEET
phonemes: fɚðɪ ˈoʊld lˈʌv, ænd ðɪ ˈoʊld jˈɪɹ, ðeɪ bˈoʊθ hæv pˈæst ɐwˈeɪ; ænd aɪ nˈɛvɚ kæn fˈaɪnd ðɪ ˈoʊld tʃˈɪɹ kˈʌm wʌt wɪl ɔːɹ mˈeɪ. aɪ hˈɜːd ðə bˈɛl ɪnðə tˈɔːl tʃˈɜːtʃ stˈiːpəl klˈæŋ ˈaʊt ɐ dʒˈɔɪfəl stɹˈeɪn. ænd aɪ θˈɔːt, ʌv ˈɔːl ðə ɡɹˈeɪt wˈɜːldz pˈiːpəl, aɪ hæv ðə bˈɪɾɚɹɪst pˈeɪn.fɚðɪ ˈoʊld jˈɪɹ wʌzɐ ɡˈʊd jˈɪɹ, ænd ðɪ ˈoʊld lˈʌv wʌz swˈiːt; ænd hˌaʊ kʊd maɪ hˈɑːɹt hˈoʊld ˌɛni tʃˈɪɹ wɛn bˈoʊθ lˈeɪ dˈɛd æt maɪ fˈiːt.