text_original: To/soft for joy, too mild for grief, Within the wood it dies  Beauty too wayward and too brief To grace our noonday skies.
text_transcription: TOO SOFT FOR JOY TOO MILD FOR GRIEF WITHIN THE WOOD IT DIES BEAUTY TOO WAYWARD AND TOO BRIEF TO GRACE OUR NOONDAY SKIES
phonemes: tə slˈæʃ sˈɔft fɔːɹ dʒˈɔɪ, tˈuː mˈaɪld fɔːɹ ɡɹˈiːf, wɪðˌɪn ðə wˈʊd ɪt dˈaɪz bjˈuːɾi tˈuː wˈeɪwɚd ænd tˈuː bɹˈiːf tə ɡɹˈeɪs ˌaʊɚ nˈuːndeɪ skˈaɪz.