text_original: We may in after hours grow tender And strive to read our lives aright, But if to Love its due we render, We know Life's thread, at best, is slight!
text_transcription: WE MAY IN AFTER HOURS GROW TENDER AND STRIVE TO READ OUR LIVES ARIGHT BUT IF TO LOVE ITS STEW WE RENDER WE KNOW LIFE'S THREAD AT BEST IS SLIGHT
phonemes: wiː mˈeɪ ɪn ˈæftɚɹ ˈaʊɚz ɡɹˈoʊ tˈɛndɚ ænd stɹˈaɪv tə ɹˈiːd ˌaʊɚ lˈaɪvz ɚɹˈaɪt, bˌʌt ɪf tə lˈʌv ɪts dˈuː wiː ɹˈɛndɚ, wiː nˈoʊ lˈaɪfz θɹˈɛd, æt bˈɛst, ɪz slˈaɪt!