text_original: My Guido was dead!  I fell down at his feet, While they cheered in the street. I bore it;  friends soothed me: my grief looked sublime As the ransom of Italy.
text_transcription: MY GUIDO WAS DEAD I FELL DOWN AT HIS FEET WHILE THEYHEERED IN THE STREET I BORE IT FRIEND SOOTHED ME MY GRIEF LOOKED SUBLIME AS THE RANSOM OF ITALY
phonemes: maɪ ɡwˈiːdoʊ wʌz dˈɛd!  aɪ fˈɛl dˌaʊn æt hɪz fˈiːt, wˌaɪl ðeɪ tʃˈɪɹd ɪnðə stɹˈiːt. aɪ bˈɔːɹ ɪt;  fɹˈɛndz sˈuːðd mˌiː: maɪ ɡɹˈiːf lˈʊkt sʌblˈaɪm æz ðə ɹˈænsəm ʌv ˈɪɾəli.