text_original: Looking down the long vista of memory, to the many faces turned to me from beds of pain, I find few to which I can attach a name, and one I seem never to have looked upon but once.
text_transcription: LOOKING DOWN THE LONG VISTA OF MEMORY TO THE MANY FACES TURNED TO ME FROM BEDS OF PAIN I FIND FEW TO WHICH I CAN ATTACH A NAME AND ONE I SEEM NEVER TO HAVE LOOKED UPON BUT ONCE
phonemes: lˈʊkɪŋ dˌaʊn ðə lˈɔŋ vˈɪstə ʌv mˈɛmɚɹi, tə ðə mˈɛni fˈeɪsᵻz tˈɜːnd tə mˌiː fɹʌm bˈɛdz ʌv pˈeɪn, aɪ fˈaɪnd fjˈuː tʊ wˌɪtʃ aɪ kæn ɐtˈætʃ ɐ nˈeɪm, ænd wˈʌn aɪ sˈiːm nˈɛvɚ tə hæv lˈʊkt əpˌɑːn bˌʌt wˈʌns.