text_original: Pale Death, impartial, walks his round; he knocks at cottage gate And palace portal. Sestius, child of bliss! How should a mortal's hopes be long, when short his being's date? Lo here! the fabulous ghosts, the dark abyss, The void of the Plutonian hall, where soon as e'er you go, No more for you shall leap the auspicious die To seat you on the throne of wine; no more your breast shall glow For Lycidas, the star of every eye.
text_transcription: PALE DEATH IMPARTIAL WALKS HIS ROUND HE KNOCKS AT COTTAGE GATE AND PALACE PORTER SAESTIUS CHILD OF BLISS HOW SHOULD IMMORTAL'S HOPES BE LONG WHEN SHORT HIS BEING STAYED LO HERE THE FABULOUS GHOST THE DARK ABYSS DEVOID OF THE PLUTONIAN HALL WHERE SOON AS EVER YOU GO NO MORE FOR YOU SHALL LEAP THE AUSPICIOUS DYE TO SEAT YOU ON THE THRONE OF WINE NO MORE YOUR BREAST SHALL GLOW FOR LYCIDAS THE STAR OF EVERY EYE
phonemes: pˈeɪl dˈɛθ, ɪmpˈɑːɹʃəl, wˈɔːks hɪz ɹˈaʊnd; hiː nˈɑːks æt kˈɑːɾɪdʒ ɡˈeɪt ænd pˈælɪs pˈɔːɹɾəl. sˈɛstɪəs, tʃˈaɪld ʌv blˈɪs! hˌaʊ ʃˌʊd ɐ mˈɔːɹɾəlz hˈoʊps biː lˈɔŋ, wˌɛn ʃˈɔːɹt hɪz bˌiːɪŋz dˈeɪt? lˈoʊ hˈɪɹ! ðə fˈæbjʊləs ɡˈoʊsts, ðə dˈɑːɹk ɐbˈɪs, ðə vˈɔɪd ʌvðə pluːtˈoʊniən hˈɔːl, wˌɛɹ sˈuːn æz ˈɛɹ juː ɡˈoʊ, nˈoʊmˌɔːɹ fɔːɹ juː ʃˌæl lˈiːp ðɪ ɔːspˈɪʃəs dˈaɪ tə sˈiːt juː ɔnðə θɹˈoʊn ʌv wˈaɪn; nˈoʊmˌɔːɹ jʊɹ bɹˈɛst ʃˌæl ɡlˈoʊ fɔːɹ lˈaɪsɪdəz, ðə stˈɑːɹ ʌv ˈɛvɹi ˈaɪ.