text_original: Her locks are sown with silver hairs, And the face they shroud is pale and wan; Once it was sweet as the rose she wears, Though the perfect lips wore a proud disdain!
text_transcription: HER LOCKS ARE SOWN WITH SILVER HAIRS AND THE FACE THEY SHROUD IS PALE AND WAN ONCE IT WAS SWEET AS THE ROSE SHE WEARS THOUGH THE PERFECT LIPS WORE A PROUD DISDAIN
phonemes: hɜː lˈɑːks ɑːɹ sˈoʊn wɪð sˈɪlvɚ hˈɛɹz, ænd ðə fˈeɪs ðeɪ ʃɹˈaʊd ɪz pˈeɪl ænd wˈæn; wˈʌns ɪt wʌz swˈiːt æz ðə ɹˈoʊz ʃiː wˈɛɹz, ðˌoʊ ðə pˈɜːfɛkt lˈɪps wˈɔːɹ ɐ pɹˈaʊd dɪsdˈeɪn!