text_original: O yet to you, whose random hand Struck from the dark whole gems like these, (Archaic beauty, never planned Nor reared by wan degrees, Which leaves an artist poor, and Art An earldom richer all her years;) To you, dead on your shield apart, Be _Ave_! passed in tears.
text_transcription: O YET TO YOU WHOSE RANDOM HAND STRUCK FROM THE DARK WHOLE GEMS LIKE THESE ARCHAIC BEAUTY NEVER PLANNED NOR REARED BY ONE DEGREES WHICH LEAVES AN ARTIST POOR AND ART AN EARLDOM RICHER ALL HER YEARS TO YOU DEAD ON YOUR SHIELD APART BE AVE PASSED IN TEARS
phonemes: ˈoʊ jˈɛt tə juː, hˌuːz ɹˈændəm hˈænd stɹˈʌk fɹʌmðə dˈɑːɹk hˈoʊl dʒˈɛmz lˈaɪk ðˈiːz, (ɑːɹkˈeɪɪk bjˈuːɾi, nˈɛvɚ plˈænd nˈɔːɹ ɹˈɪɹd baɪ wˈæn dᵻɡɹˈiːz, wˌɪtʃ lˈiːvz ɐn ˈɑːɹɾɪst pˈʊɹ, ænd ˈɑːɹt ɐn ˈɜːldəm ɹˈɪtʃɚɹ ˈɔːl hɜː jˈɪɹz;) tə juː, dˈɛd ˌɔn jʊɹ ʃˈiːld ɐpˈɑːɹt, biː ˈɑːveɪ! pˈæst ɪn tˈɪɹz.