text_original: Say it is folly, and deem me weak While the scalding tears drop down my cheek: But I love it, I love it, and cannot tear My soul from a mother's old arm chair.
text_transcription: SAY IT IS FOLLY AND DEEM ME WEAK WHILE THE SCALDING TEARS DROP DOWN MY CHEEK BUT I LOVE IT I LOVE IT AND CANNOT TEAR MY SOUL FROM A MOTHER'S OLD ARM CHAIR
phonemes: sˈeɪ ɪɾ ɪz fˈɑːli, ænd dˈiːm mˌiː wˈiːk wˌaɪl ðə skˈɑːldɪŋ tˈɪɹz dɹˈɑːp dˌaʊn maɪ tʃˈiːk: bˌʌt aɪ lˈʌv ɪt, aɪ lˈʌv ɪt, ænd kænˈɑːt tˈɛɹ maɪ sˈoʊl fɹʌm ɐ mˈʌðɚz ˈoʊld ˈɑːɹm tʃˈɛɹ.