text_original: 78 'THE FAUN At noon great Caesar's chariot past, A poison on the air, But drive he slow or drive he fast, The journey's end is Care — Care, at whose throne all mortals stand With tinsel crowns put by, Too weak to rove the billowed land.
text_transcription: E AT NOON GREAT CAESAR'S CHARIOT PASSED A POISON ON THE AIR BUT DRIVE HE SLOW OR DRIVE HE FAST THE JOURNEY'S END IS CARE CARE AT WHOSE THRONE ALL MORTALS STAND WITH TINSEL CROWNS PUT BY TOO WEAK TO ROVE THE BILLOWED LAND
phonemes: sˈɛvənti ˈeɪt ðə fˈɔːn æt nˈuːn ɡɹˈeɪt sˈiːzɚz tʃˈæɹiət pˈæst, ɐ pˈɔɪzən ɔnðɪ ˈɛɹ, bˌʌt dɹˈaɪv hiː slˈoʊ ɔːɹ dɹˈaɪv hiː fˈæst, ðə dʒˈɜːniz ˈɛnd ɪz kˈɛɹ — kˈɛɹ, æt hˌuːz θɹˈoʊn ˈɔːl mˈɔːɹɾəlz stˈænd wɪð tˈɪnsəl kɹˈaʊnz pˌʊt bˈaɪ, tˈuː wˈiːk tə ɹˈoʊv ðə bˈɪloʊd lˈænd.