text_original: Treacherously he smiled, nor spoke, Hiding neath his rainbow cloak Store of grievous things to strew On the way that we must go. Vain to chide him ; old and weak, He is dying ; let him die." And the Old Year did not speak, But we thought we heard him sigh.
text_transcription: TREACHEROUSLY HE SMILED NOR SPOKE HIDING NEATH HIS RAINBOW CLOAK STORE OF GRIEVOUS THINGS TO STREW ON THE WAY THAT WE MUST GO VAIN TO CHIDE HIM OLD AND WEAK HE IS DYING LET HIM DIE AND THE OLD YEAR DID NOT SPEAK BUT WE THOUGHT WE HEARD HIM SIGH
phonemes: tɹˈɛtʃɚɹəsli hiː smˈaɪld, nˈɔːɹ spˈoʊk, hˈaɪdɪŋ nˈiːθ hɪz ɹˈeɪnboʊ klˈoʊk stˈɔːɹ ʌv ɡɹˈiːvəs θˈɪŋz tə stɹˈuː ɔnðə wˈeɪ ðæt wiː mˈʌst ɡˈoʊ. vˈeɪn tə tʃˈaɪd hˌɪm ; ˈoʊld ænd wˈiːk, hiː ɪz dˈaɪɪŋ ; lˈɛt hˌɪm dˈaɪ." ænd ðɪ ˈoʊld jˈɪɹ dɪdnˌɑːt spˈiːk, bˌʌt wiː θˈɔːt wiː hˈɜːd hˌɪm sˈaɪ.