text_original: "He's drunk," the passing crowd will say 'T is well, for none will need to grieve. Some turn their scornful heads away, Some fling an alms in hurrying by;   Haste,  't is the village holyday! The aged beggar needs no help to die.
text_transcription: HE'S DRUNK THE PASSING CROWD WILL SAY TIS WELL FOR NONE WILL NEED TO GRIEVE SOME TURN THEIR SCORNFUL HEADS AWAY SOME FLING IN ARMS IN HURRYING BY HASTE TIS THE VILLAGE HOLY DAY THE AGED BEGGAR NEEDS NO HELP TO DIE
phonemes: "hiːz dɹˈʌŋk," ðə pˈæsɪŋ kɹˈaʊd wɪl sˈeɪ tˈiː ɪz wˈɛl, fɔːɹ nˈʌn wɪl nˈiːd tə ɡɹˈiːv. sˌʌm tˈɜːn ðɛɹ skˈɔːɹnfəl hˈɛdz ɐwˈeɪ, sˌʌm flˈɪŋ ɐn ˈɑːmz ɪn hˈɜːɹiɪŋ bˈaɪ;   hˈeɪst,  tˈiː ɪz ðə vˈɪlɪdʒ hˈɑːlɪdˌeɪ! ðɪ ˈeɪdʒd bˈɛɡɚ nˈiːdz nˈoʊ hˈɛlp tə dˈaɪ.