text_original: 'Neath cruel storms of Fate With my crown of bay, A sad and lonely life I lead, Waiting my latest day. Thus, struck by latter cold While howls the wintry wind, Trembles upon the naked bough The last leaf left behind.
text_transcription: NEATH CRUEL STORMS OF FATE WITH MY CROWN OF BAY A SAD AND LONELY LIFE I LEAD WAITING MY LATEST STAY THUS STRUCK BY LETTER COLD WHILE HOWLS THE WINTRY WIND TREMBLES UPON THE NAKED BOUGH THE LAST LEAF LEFT BEHIND
phonemes: nˈiːθ kɹˈuːəl stˈɔːɹmz ʌv fˈeɪt wɪð maɪ kɹˈaʊn ʌv bˈeɪ, ɐ sˈæd ænd lˈoʊnli lˈaɪf aɪ lˈiːd, wˈeɪɾɪŋ maɪ lˈeɪɾɪst dˈeɪ. ðˈʌs, stɹˈʌk baɪ lˈæɾɚ kˈoʊld wˌaɪl hˈaʊlz ðə wˈɪntɹi wˈɪnd, tɹˈɛmbəlz əpˌɑːn ðə nˈeɪkᵻd bˈaʊ ðə lˈæst lˈiːf lˈɛft bᵻhˈaɪnd.