text_original: Your matchless courage with your prudence joins, The glorious structure of your fame to raise; With its own light your dazzling glory shines, And into adoration turns our praise. Had you by dull succession gain'd your crown, (Cowards are monarchs by that title made,) Part of your merit Chance would call her own, And half your virtues had been lost in shade.
text_transcription: YOUR MATCHLESS COURAGE WITH YOUR PRUDENCE JOINS THE GLORIOUS STRUCTURE OF YOUR FAME TO RAISE WITH ITS OWN LIGHT YOUR DAZZLING GLORY SHINES AND INTO ADORATION TURNS OUR PRAISE HAD YOU BY DULL SUCCESSION GAINED YOUR CROWN COWARDS ARE MONARCHS BY THAT TITLE MADE PART OF YOUR MERIT CHANCE WOULD CALL HER OWN AND HALF YOUR VIRTUES HAD BEEN LOST IN SHADE
phonemes: jʊɹ mˈætʃləs kˈɜːɹɪdʒ wɪð jʊɹ pɹˈuːdəns dʒˈɔɪnz, ðə ɡlˈɔːɹiəs stɹˈʌktʃɚɹ ʌv jʊɹ fˈeɪm tə ɹˈeɪz; wɪð ɪts ˈoʊn lˈaɪt jʊɹ dˈæzlɪŋ ɡlˈɔːɹi ʃˈaɪnz, ænd ˌɪntʊ ˌædɚɹˈeɪʃən tˈɜːnz ˌaʊɚ pɹˈeɪz. hæd juː baɪ dˈʌl səksˈɛʃən ɡˈeɪnd jʊɹ kɹˈaʊn, (kˈaʊɚdz ɑːɹ mˈɑːnɚkz baɪ ðæt tˈaɪɾəl mˈeɪd,) pˈɑːɹt ʌv jʊɹ mˈɛɹɪt tʃˈæns wʊd kˈɔːl hɜːɹ ˈoʊn, ænd hˈæf jʊɹ vˈɜːtʃuːz hɐdbɪn lˈɔst ɪn ʃˈeɪd.