text_original: But, Stella, say, what evil tongue Reports you are no longer young; That Time sits with his scythe to mow Where erst sat Cupid with his bow; That half your locks are turn'd to gray? I'll ne'er believe a word they say.
text_transcription: BUT STELLA SAY WHAT EVIL TONGUE REPORTS YOU ARE NO LONGER YOUNG THAT TIME SITS WITH HIS SCYTHE TO MOW WHERE ERST SAT CUPID WITH HIS BOW THAT HALF YOUR LOCKS ARE TURNED TO GREY I'LL NEAR BELIEVE A WORD THEY SAY
phonemes: bˌʌt, stˈɛlə, sˈeɪ, wˌʌt ˈiːvəl tˈʌŋ ɹᵻpˈɔːɹts juː ɑːɹ nˌoʊ lˈɑːŋɡɚ jˈʌŋ; ðæt tˈaɪm sˈɪts wɪð hɪz sˈaɪð tə mˈoʊ wˌɛɹ ˈɜːst sˈæt kjˈuːpɪd wɪð hɪz bˈoʊ; ðæt hˈæf jʊɹ lˈɑːks ɑːɹ tˈɜːnd tə ɡɹˈeɪ? aɪl nˈɛɹ bᵻlˈiːv ɐ wˈɜːd ðeɪ sˈeɪ.