text_original: Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth, Fooled by those rebel powers that thee array, Why dost thou pine within and suffer dearth, Painting thy outward walls so costly gay?
text_transcription: POOR SOUL THE CENTRE OF MY SINFUL EARTH FOOLED BY THOSE REBEL POWERS THAT THEE ARRAY WHY DOST THOU PINE WITHIN AND SUFFER DEARTH PAINTING THY OUTWARD WALLS SO COSTLY GAY
phonemes: pˈʊɹ sˈoʊl, ðə sˈɛntɚɹ ʌv maɪ sˈɪnfəl ˈɜːθ, fˈuːld baɪ ðoʊz ɹˈɛbəl pˈaʊɚz ðæt ðiː ɚɹˈeɪ, wˌaɪ dˈɑːst ðˈaʊ pˈaɪn wɪðˌɪn ænd sˈʌfɚ dˈɜːθ, pˈeɪntɪŋ ðˌaɪ ˈaʊtwɚd wˈɔːlz sˌoʊ kˈɔstli ɡˈeɪ?