text_original: Ah, hapless wretch! condemn'd to know, The sad varieties of woe; Where'er thy footsteps turn, to meet, An earthquake yawning at thy feet, While o'er thy head pale meteors glare, And boding tempests fill the air, In throbbing anguish doom'd to roam, Yet never find a peaceful home.
text_transcription: AH HAPLESS WRETCH CONDEMNED TO KNOW THE SAD VARIETIES OF WOE WHEREVER THY FOOTSTEPS TURN TO MEET AN EARTHQUAKE YAWNING AT THY FEET WHILE OVER THY HEAD PALE METEORS GLARE AND BODING TEMPESTS FILL THE AIR IN THROBBING ANGUISH DOOMED TO ROME YET NEVER FIND A PEACEFUL HOME
phonemes: ˈɑː, hˈæpləs ɹˈɛtʃ! kəndˈɛmd tə nˈoʊ, ðə sˈæd vɚɹˈaɪəɾiz ʌv wˈoʊ; wˈɛɹɚ ðˌaɪ fˈʊtstɛps tˈɜːn, tə mˈiːt, ɐn ˈɜːθkweɪk jˈɔːnɪŋ æt ðˌaɪ fˈiːt, wˌaɪl ˈɔːɹ ðˌaɪ hˈɛd pˈeɪl mˈiːɾɪɚz ɡlˈɛɹ, ænd bˈoʊdɪŋ tˈɛmpɪsts fˈɪl ðɪ ˈɛɹ, ɪn θɹˈɑːbɪŋ ˈæŋɡwɪʃ dˈuːmd tə ɹˈoʊm, jˈɛt nˈɛvɚ fˈaɪnd ɐ pˈiːsfəl hˈoʊm.