text_original: At his last change, when Life's dull coils unwind, Will he, in old love, hitherward escape, And the eternal essence of his mind Enter this silent adamantine shape, And his low voicing haunt its slipping snows When dawn that calls the climber dyes them rose?
text_transcription: AT HIS LAST CHANGE WHEN LIFE'S DULL COILS UNWINED WILL HE IN OLD LOVE HITHERWARD ESCAPE AND THE ETERNAL ESSENCE OF HIS MIND ENTER THIS SILENT ADAMANTINE SHAPE AND HIS SLOW VOICEING HAUNTED SLIPPING SNOWS WHEN DAWN THAT CALLS THE CLIMBER TIES THEM ROSE
phonemes: æt hɪz lˈæst tʃˈeɪndʒ, wˌɛn lˈaɪfz dˈʌl kˈɔɪlz ʌnwˈaɪnd, wˈɪl hiː, ɪn ˈoʊld lˈʌv, hˈɪðɜːwɚd ɛskˈeɪp, ænd ðɪ ɪtˈɜːnəl ˈɛsəns ʌv hɪz mˈaɪnd ˈɛntɚ ðɪs sˈaɪlənt ˈædɐmˌæntiːn ʃˈeɪp, ænd hɪz lˈoʊ vˈɔɪsɪŋ hˈɔːnt ɪts slˈɪpɪŋ snˈoʊz wɛn dˈɔːn ðæt kˈɔːlz ðə klˈaɪmɚ dˈaɪz ðˌɛm ɹˈoʊz?