text_original: It is ours to seek for the fount of youth, and the gold of Hesperides, Till the harp of the waves in its rhythmic beat keeps time to our pulses' swing, And the orient welkin is smit to flame with auroral crimsoning.
text_transcription: IT IS OURS TO SEEK FOR THE FOUNT OF YOUTH AND THE GOLD OF ASPERIDES TILL THE HARP OF THE WAVES IN ITS RHYTHMIC BEAT KEEPS TIME TO OUR PULSES SWING AND THE ORIENT WELKIN IS SMIT TO FLAME WITH AURORAL CRIMSONING
phonemes: ɪɾ ɪz aʊɚz tə sˈiːk fɚðə fˈaʊnt ʌv jˈuːθ, ænd ðə ɡˈoʊld ʌv hˈɛspɚɹˌaɪdz, tˈɪl ðə hˈɑːɹp ʌvðə wˈeɪvz ɪn ɪts ɹˈɪðmɪk bˈiːt kˈiːps tˈaɪm tʊ ˌaʊɚ pˈʌlsᵻz swˈɪŋ, ænd ðɪ ˈɔːɹiənt wˈɛlkɪn ɪz smˈɪt tə flˈeɪm wɪð ˈɔːɹɚɹəl kɹˈɪmsənɪŋ.