text_original: _Alas! dear child, ne'er to have loved at all_. To trust an unknown good, To hope, but all in vain, Over a far off bliss to brood, Only to find it pain   What sadder fate could any soul befall?
text_transcription: ALAS DEAR CHILD NEVER TO HAVE LOVED AT ALL TO TRUST AN UNKNOWN GOOD TO HOPE BUT ALL IN VAIN OVER A FAR OFF BLISS TO BROOD ONLY TO FIND IT PAIN WHAT SADDER FATE COULD ANY SOUL BEFALL
phonemes: ɐlˈæs! dˈɪɹ tʃˈaɪld, nˈɛɹ tə hæv lˈʌvd æɾ ˈɔːl. tə tɹˈʌst ɐn ʌnnˈoʊn ɡˈʊd, tə hˈoʊp, bˌʌt ˈɔːl ɪn vˈeɪn, ˌoʊvɚɹ ɐ fˈɑːɹ ˈɔf blˈɪs tə bɹˈuːd, ˈoʊnli tə fˈaɪnd ɪt pˈeɪn wʌt sˈædɚ fˈeɪt kʊd ˌɛni sˈoʊl bᵻfˈɔːl?