text_original: And years and months are gone, And thou must stand before the throne, To give account of all thy ways, And how thou spent thy youthful days. SINNER. O Death! have mercy on my age, And spare me yet upon the stage: I'm but a flower in my bloom, And wilt thou cut me down so soon! DEATH.
text_transcription: AND YEARS AND MONTHS ARE GONE AND THOU MUST STAND BEFORE THE THRONE TO GIVE ACCOUNT OF ALL THY WAYS AND HOW THOU SPENT THY YOUTHFUL DAYS SINNER O DEATH HAVE MERCY ON MY AGE AND SPARE ME YET UPON THE STAGE I'M BUT A FLOWER IN MY BLOOM AND WILT THOU CUT ME DOWN SO SOON DEATH
phonemes: ænd jˈɪɹz ænd mˈʌnθs ɑːɹ ɡˈɔn, ænd ðˈaʊ mˈʌst stˈænd bᵻfˌɔːɹ ðə θɹˈoʊn, tə ɡˈɪv ɐkˈaʊnt ʌv ˈɔːl ðˌaɪ wˈeɪz, ænd hˌaʊ ðˈaʊ spˈɛnt ðˌaɪ jˈuːθfəl dˈeɪz. sˈɪnɚ. ˈoʊ dˈɛθ! hæv mˈɜːsi ˌɔn maɪ ˈeɪdʒ, ænd spˈɛɹ mˌiː jˈɛt əpˌɑːn ðə stˈeɪdʒ: aɪm bˌʌt ɐ flˈaʊɚɹ ɪn maɪ blˈuːm, ænd wˈɪlt ðˈaʊ kˈʌt mˌiː dˌaʊn sˌoʊ sˈuːn! dˈɛθ.