text_original: "Chester, you speak of my son. It is a presentiment I have in relation to him that has drawn my heart so closely to yourself. Something tells me I shall see him never again on earth. It is not the result of a dream; it is not a weird fancy; it has come to me like a revelation, and I cannot put it away. But let it pass. I will not darken your last hours of life with my gloomsome forebodings.
text_transcription: CHESTER YOU SPEAK OF MY SON IT IS A PRESENTIMENT I HAVE IN RELATION TO HIM THAT HAS DRAWN MY HEART SO CLOSELY TO YOURSELF SOMETHING TELLS ME I SHALL SEE HIM NEVER AGAIN ON THIS EARTH IT IS NOT THE RESULT OF A DREAM IT IS NOT A WEIRD FANCY IT HAS COME TO ME LIKE A REVELATION AND I CANNOT PUT IT AWAY BUT LET IT PASS I WILL NOT DARKEN YOUR LAST HOURS OF LIFE WITH MY GLOOMSOME FOREBODINGS
phonemes: "tʃˈɛstɚ, juː spˈiːk ʌv maɪ sˈʌn. ɪɾ ɪz ɐ pɹɪzˈɛntɪmənt aɪ hæv ɪn ɹᵻlˈeɪʃən tə hˌɪm ðæt hɐz dɹˈɔːn maɪ hˈɑːɹt sˌoʊ klˈoʊsli tə jɔːɹsˈɛlf. sˈʌmθɪŋ tˈɛlz mˌiː aɪʃˌɐl sˈiː hˌɪm nˈɛvɚɹ ɐɡˈɛn ˌɔn ˈɜːθ. ɪɾ ɪz nˌɑːt ðə ɹɪzˈʌlt əvə dɹˈiːm; ɪɾ ɪz nˌɑːɾə wˈɪɹd fˈænsi; ɪt hɐz kˈʌm tə mˌiː lˈaɪk ɐ ɹˌɛvɪlˈeɪʃən, ænd aɪ kænˈɑːt pˌʊt ɪɾ ɐwˈeɪ. bˌʌt lˈɛt ɪt pˈæs. aɪ wɪl nˌɑːt dˈɑːɹkən jʊɹ lˈæst ˈaʊɚz ʌv lˈaɪf wɪð maɪ ɡlˈuːmsʌm fˈɔːɹboʊdɪŋz.