text_original: But ye, dear Youth, who lightly in the day of fury Put on England's glory as a common coat, And in your stature of masking grace Stood forth warriors complete, No praise o'ershadoweth yours to day, Walking out of the home of love To match the deeds of all the dead.   Alas! alas! fair Peace, These were thy blossoming roses.
text_transcription: BUT YE DEAR YOUTH WHO LIGHTLY IN THE DAY OF FURY PUT ON ENGLAND'S GLORY AS A COMMON COAT AND IN YOUR STATURE OF MASKING GRACE STOOD FORTH WARRIORS COMPLETE NO PRAISE OVERSHADOWETH YEARS TO DAY WALKING OUT OF THE HOME OF LOVE TO MATCH THE DEEDS OF ALL THE DEAD ALAS ALAS FAIR PEACE THESE WERE THY BLOSSOMING ROSES
phonemes: bˌʌt jˈiː, dˈɪɹ jˈuːθ, hˌuː lˈaɪtli ɪnðə dˈeɪ ʌv fjˈʊɹɹi pˌʊt ˌɔn ˈɪŋɡləndz ɡlˈɔːɹi æz ɐ kˈɑːmən kˈoʊt, ænd ɪn jʊɹ stˈætʃɚɹ ʌv mˈæskɪŋ ɡɹˈeɪs stˈʊd fˈɔːɹθ wˈɔːɹɪɚz kəmplˈiːt, nˈoʊ pɹˈeɪz ˈɔːɹʃɐdˌoʊəθ jˈɔːɹz tə dˈeɪ, wˈɔːkɪŋ ˌaʊɾəv ðə hˈoʊm ʌv lˈʌv tə mˈætʃ ðə dˈiːdz ʌv ˈɔːl ðə dˈɛd.   ɐlˈæs! ɐlˈæs! fˈɛɹ pˈiːs, ðiːz wɜː ðˌaɪ blˈɔsəmɪŋ ɹˈoʊzᵻz.