text_original: Wan peace, uncolored days, were a poor favor ; To lack great pain and love were to lack savor. Life, take the heart of me And fill it brimmingly, No matter with what poignant brew or flavor.
text_transcription: WHEN PEACE ON COLORED DAYS WERE A POOR FAVOUR TO LACK GREAT PAIN AND LOVE WERE TO LACK SAVOUR LIFE TAKE THE HEART OF ME AND FILL IT BRIMMINGLY NO MATTER WITH WHAT POIGNANT BREW OR FLAVOUR
phonemes: wˈæn pˈiːs, ʌŋkˈʌlɚd dˈeɪz, wɜːɹ ɐ pˈʊɹ fˈeɪvɚ ; tə lˈæk ɡɹˈeɪt pˈeɪn ænd lˈʌv wɜː tə lˈæk sˈeɪvɚ. lˈaɪf, tˈeɪk ðə hˈɑːɹt ʌv mˌiː ænd fˈɪl ɪt bɹˈɪmɪŋli, nˈoʊ mˈæɾɚ wɪð wʌt pˈɔɪnjənt bɹˈuː ɔːɹ flˈeɪvɚ.